The lost and found the Cause hath crowned, The Day of Days is here. - William Morris

Now let us go, love, down the winding stair,
With fingers intertwined...

Now shall the hard war-helm bedight with the gold
Be bereft of its plating; its polishers sleep,
They that the battle-mask erewhile should burnish:
Likewise the war-byrny, which abode in the battle
O'er break of the war-boards the bite of the irons, Crumbles after the warrior; nor may the ring'd byrny After the war-leader fare wide afield
On behalf of the heroes: nor joy of the harp is,
No game of the glee-wood; no goodly hawk now Through the hall swingeth; no more the swift horse Beateth the burg-stead. Now hath bale-quelling
A many of life-kin forth away sent.

[The Liberals are] men possessed of property, but not of principles, whose consciences are just strong enough for them to dislike being called Conservatives, so long as they believe their property to be safe; but who will have to put up with being called reactionists about the time when their property seems to be in any danger. These politicians, who in fact are just hanging on till they see which way the cat is going to jump, are, of course, much the strongest party in our middle-class state, and since 1880 have had a good time indeed in dragging the conscientious Radicals who brought them into power though some of the dirtiest puddles in English history.