A truce to jokes! Cobden is dead.
When eagles spread their wings athwart the sky,
When turrets rise from out tho waving trees,
These objects catch the glanco of mortal eyo :
Man looks in rapture at the might he sees;
The sunlight glances on the eagle’s wings,
And gives a glory to the turret-top.
So when the lark at heaven’s portal sings,
And lets to earth melodious music drop,
Man listens to the sounds and adds his praise.
Thus ’tis when statesmen leave the beaten track
And tread alone their own peculiar ways;
Men leave their business and cast glances back
To scan the new star shedding brilliant rays.
From lowly state the Patriot Trader came
To lift his country’s commerce to a height
Unknown through centimes of thrift and gain.
But when in all the plenitude of might,
His great heart sank beneath a mortal pain,
England laments, whilst Europe drops a tear,
And transatlantic shores proclaim bis worth.
We weave our cypress for the Patriot Seer,
And on his bier drop melancholy earth!
Related Materials
- France vs. England: Mid-nineteenth-century trade and economic theory
- The China Question in Punch, January to June 1857
- Obituary cartoon in Funl
- Cobdenisms (Punch, 1857)
- The Great Chinese Warriors Dah-Bee and Cob-Deb (Punch, 1857)
- What Can You Say for Your Friends Now, Richard? (Punch, 1857)
Last modified 2 May 2018