ANTHOLOGY OF MASSACHUSETTS POETS (70)

    THE German people reared them An idol¹ made of wood； And Hindenburg before them Lifelike and stupid stood.

    To clothe him all in iron And thus his soul express, With nails and spikes² they covered His wooden nakedness.

    And when they, thus had clothed him All in a suit of mail, Still came they, wild-eyed, looking For space to drive a nail. Whenever Teuton airmen Slay³ boys and girls at play, Or U-boats, drowning babies, Create a holiday.

    Then, gathering⁴ round their statue, A happy German throng⁵ Drive nails into the idol To make him still more strong.

    Avenge⁶ the babes, shipbuilders, That on the seas have died； Avenge the little children Murdered for Wilhelm's pride. Come, gather at the shipyards, And let your hammers ring, For more than ships and cargoes⁷ Waits on your fashioning.

    Come, gather at the shipyards； With every bolt you drive Bethink you `tis the Kaiser Whose brutish head you rive.

    Come, gather at the shipyards, And swing with might and main； `Tis Tirpitz and the Crown Prince That you to-day have slain⁸.

    Come, gather at the shipyards, And heat the metal hot, For it is Bethmann Hollweg You're boiling in the pot.

    Come, gather at the shipyards,—— And when the day is done, You've spent it in driving spikes, In Hindernburg the Hun.

    Come, gather at the shipyards, And toil⁹ with healthy hate, For only you can save the world, The Hun is at the gate.