Macaulay.
28th December, 1859.
O going hear, dids’t wreak thy latest scoff
On those who, wearied with thee, bade thee ge,
And, parting, dids’t with palsied hand strike off
The noblest name our Golden Book could show?
Vain spite! Self-branded, thou shalt pass away,
Bearing his life whose fame was England’s pride;
But through the ages English tongues shall say,
“That gear! An ill one. Then Macaulay died.”
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