your native son. The workers cheered. All of them but one

Though for choice I might call for a Sermon or Song;

And Locker on London, and Sala on Cooks,

'Tom Brown,' and Plotinus, they're all of them Books.

There's Fielding to lap one in currents of mirth;

There's Herrick to sing of a flower or a fay;

Or good Maitre Francoys to bring one to earth,

If Shelley or Coleridge have snatched one away:

There's Muller on Speech, there is Gurney on Spooks,