'"--_Evening Paper_.
It is proposed, we understand, to adopt this as the motto of the
Anglo-American Union.
* * * * *
BREST-BUCHAREST-VERSAILLES.
Oh, those were palmy days at Brest!
You had no sort of scruples then;
You knelt at ease on Russia's chest,
Dipped in her blood your iron pen,
Dictated terms the most abhorrent
And made her sign her own death-warrant.
At Bucharest 'twas much the same:
You had Roumania under heel;
No pity here nor generous shame,
But just the argument of steel,
The logic of the butcher's knife--
And so she signed away her life.
These object-lessons learnt by rote,
As once we learnt your poison-gas,
Your pupils now are shocked to note
How Teuton wits, a little crass,
Mistake for rude assault and battery
Our imitation's feeble flattery.
We could not copy, line for line,
The perfect models made by you;
Yet the ideals they enshrine
We dimly strove to keep in view,
Trying to draft, with broad effect,
The kind of Peace that you'd expect.
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