The job was for us, grin and bear;
We'd lit on India's dust an' drought;
We knew as we were planted there,
But scarcely how it came about;
And so, in rough and tumble style,
And nothing much to make a shout,
We set our backs to graft a while,
And meant to stay and stick it out.
Ten hundred risky, frisky Kings,
And on the whole a decent lot;
And several hundred million things
That trusted us with all they'd got;
And so we blundered at it straight,
And found the times was pretty hot;
And so they smiled and called it Fate,
And Fate it was, as like as not.
Our law was one for great and small--
We heard 'em honest, claim for claim;
We smooth'd their squabbles for 'em all,
And let 'em pray by any name;
And so we left enough alone,
But learnt 'em plenty all the same;
We show'd 'em what they should be shown,
And tried to play the decent game.
For all our work we've not got much?
P'r'aps not: but now there's come a scrap
That's got us good with lies and such,
And gave 'em just the chance to snap;
And fools had thought they likely would
(That's German-made and rattle-trap);
They'd shout--the KAISER said they should--
And, happen, wipe us off the map.
From snow to sand that shout has burst,
And German lies are well belied;
And flood calls field for who'll be first--
They're proud to share the Empire-pride.
It's them for Britain at the test;
We knew they'd never stand aside;
For when we tried and did our best
The beggars must have known we tried.
* * * * *
The German Campaign of Lies.