JUPITER PLUVIUS, Sluicer, full-spout, Downpour diluvious, Pumped on the Drought. Checked, aloud crying, The voice of the Swain; The rootcrops be dying, From long lack of rain!
PLUVIUS poured away, While the wind blew; TONANS, he roared away, Hullaballoo, Kicking up, dweller In quarters on high, He, Cloud Compeller; The Czar of the sky.
Clouds, in convulsion, Or calm, he keeps under; Rules, by compulsion: The reason of thunder. So did he lately Compel them to rise, Piled up in stately Array on the skies.
Castles aërial, Splendid when falls, Sheen on etherial Vapoury halls, Battlements, bartizans, Phantoms of towers, Fenced round with partisans; Cloud-cauliflowers.
Mountainous forms In the realms of felicity, By Jove, to move storms, Fraught with force--electricity, They serve to betoken What mortals may tell; The weather is broken: Summer, farewell!
The _Times_ says that experiments are being made at Cap de la Hève, near the mouth of the Seine, on the production of electricity for lighthouse purposes by means of the force obtained by windmills. Light from wind! _Could_ the notion be applied at St. Stephen's? The Session just over has been mainly wind, so exceptionally "ill wind," that it has blown no good to anybody, and most certainly has thrown no "light" on anything. By all means let M. DE L'ANGLE-BEAUMANOIR be empowered to experiment on the windbags of the House of Commons when they next meet.
(_New Version, as Sung by the Comte de Paris._)
Here I come in complete Constitutional coat (That's English, you know; quite English, you know): The type of true Monarchy based on the Vote. (That's English, you know; quite English, you know.) To have a legitimate King on the throne, To make all the Country's best interests his own, Great, grand, patriotic, but _not_ overgrown (That's English, you know; quite English, you know).
Oh, the things that you see and the things that you hear Are English, you know; quite English, you know. My mind, like my last Manifesto, 'tis clear, Is English, quite English, you know!
Just now a great calm meets the national eyes (That's English, you know; quite English, you know). But imminent perils it cannot disguise (That's English, you know; quite English, you know). We have deserved well of Conservative France; A Monarchy only her bliss can enhance; And now of its nature I'll give you a glance (That's English, you know; quite English, you know).