POOR OLD ENGLAND.

Akaroa Mail and Banks Peninsula Advertiser, Volume 3, Issue 213, 2 August 1878, Page 3

POOR OLD ENGLAND.

As Painted by Certain Patriots of the Peiuod.

I'm a very fine old lady, and the wonder of the world,

On every sea my keel floats free, my banner is unfurled; But neither pluck, nor power, nor luck, my stout old soul preserves From frequent fits of fidgets, and from bad attacks of nerves.

Despite my flag the world will wag, at a perplexing pace, A fact, you see, that taxes me to hold the foremost place; It's mine by right, but then to fight, and to keep up fleets and things, Is a burden that no end of work and botheration brings.

In etatu quo? Precisely so. I'm very well content; As I've all I want at present, new arrangements I'd prevent; Why can't all parties do the like, in peace and quiet dwell, And so preserve the state of things that suitsjny book so well ? But Bless you, no! They want to " grow, , ' to grab where grab they can, And some have got the cheek to say that used to be my plan ; Perhaps, but I know better now. Why can't they learn of me, To settle down on their own lots and live contentedlie ?

But when they baulk my little schemes, or get into my way, Block paths which I desire to use, or may desire some day; It puts me dreadfully about, it makes me very cross, I can't look on at others' gain which may portend my loss.

I've got a Jot of land about, a longish way from home; Others are bound to cross my path whereever they may roam ; But then they shouldn't hang about, or settle near my tracks, Aa though they thought my game was good, and aimed at going snacks. Ah ! snacks, that's it. There's not a bit of pickings I have got But what they'd like to nibble at, or may be bolt the lot. They're welcome, quite, to forage for themselves in other places, But, then, they ought to cry " Hold hard," whene'er they spy my traces. It worries me. I do not want to spend a lot more cash In all sorts of insurances to save myself from smash. Some tell me that to guard my game, I must not grudge expense, But I hold disarming others ia the cheapest self-defence.

They mustn't grow so powerful as to give me cause for fear ; Wherever I may wish to go all roads must be kept clear; All gateways open wide to me with no one to take toll—

That's patriotic policy, and soothing to my soul.

I'm a wonderful old woman, but my nerves are waxing weak, To hold my own in quietness is all that I now seek.

Why can't the nations all keep still, like well-conducted boys, And not disturb my peace of mind by kicking up a noise ?