(_Being a slight amplification, from another quarter, of the lines
addressed to "Mr. Bernard Jaw" in last week's "Punch."_)
Oft as I've wondered with a weary sigh
At MR. SHAW'S incorrigible habit
Of always seeing England with an eye
That knows the armour's joint and where to stab it,
And, sometimes taken by his style,
Have half believed his taunts of guile,
But oftener set them down to bile
And eating too much green-stuff, like a rabbit;
I've dreamed a dream that, when the drums are still
And stern Bellona, from her steel unbodiced,
Regrets the overthrow of KAISER BILL
(Of all strange cranks, excepting one, the oddest),
Disarmament and gentleness
May also come to G. B. S.,
And, turned from wrath, he shall confess
Britain in triumph was supremely modest.
A newer, better Poland shall arise,
And Schleswig-Holstein be extremely perky;
Alsace-Lorraine shall look with loving eyes
To a clear dawn, where now the mists are murky,
And messengers of peace shall stray
On Balkan mounts, and my Aunt May
Has frequently been heard to say
That she intends to give the Belgians Turkey.
But what of England? Shall she not bestow
Quiet upon the world, and ordered measure,
And take no vantage of the fallen foe
In land (which is but dust) and sordid treasure?
But rather of her kindness yield
The balm whereby hurt wounds are healed,
That couchant in the selfsame field
Lion and lamb may masticate at leisure.
Let it be written in the terms of peace,
And evermore on brassy tablets graven,
That England shall demand no right nor lease
Of frontier nor of town, nor armoured haven,
But cede with unreluctant paw
To Germans and to German law
The whole of this egregious SHAW,
And only re-annex the BARD OF AVON.