We have n't been in this large strife
So very long to date,
But we have learned our answer to
The Prussian “Hymn of Hate.”
And we are feeding him for pap,
As plain as A. B. C,
A pretty little ditty known
As “Reciprocity.”
The Hun he planned for War, red War,
By ocean, air and land;
And he is getting oodles of
The same, to date, in hand.
He suddenly sprang poison gas
Upon a valiant foe,
And now he's getting gas and gas,
And more gas, as you know.
He found new tricks and wrinkles for
This gory battle game,
And now we stoop, no more his dupe,
And beat him at the same.
He drowned our women in the sea —
He ravished where he won —
But these were little things we could n't
Copy from the Hun.
His crimson heel lie bade us feel,
His lust and pride and scorn —
Till, echoing in our weary breasts
A righteous hate was born.....
Beware the patient man in wrath,
The olden proverb saith;
And, Spawn of a Kultur nursed in blood —
In blood meet ye your death.