The poets who aspire to the vacant Laureateship are irrepressible. The latest in the field is Mr. William McGonagall, who sends to Truth a touching elegy, of which the following are some representative lines:
Alas! England now mourns for her poet that’s gone
The late and tbe good Lord Tennyson…He was a man that didn’t care for company,
Because company interfered with his study,
And confused the bright ideas in bis brain,
And for that reason from company be liked to abstain.He has written some fine pieces of poetry in his time,
Especially the “May Queen,” which is really sublime…
After a few more lines in this strain we come to the funeral of the Laureate:
The pall-bearers on the right of the coffin were Mr. W. E. H Lecky,
And Professor Butler, Master of Trinity, and the Earl of Rosebery;
And on the left were Mr. J. A. Froude and the Marquis of Salisbury,
Also Lord Selborne, which was an imposing sight to see.There were also on the left Professor Jewett,
Besides Mr. Henry White and Sir James Paget…Likewise Henry Irving, the great tragedian.
With a solemn aspect and driving his brougham.
There is no doubt now about the identity of the future Laureate.
The Maitland Mercury, 10th December 1892
