POETRY. DRINKS ALL ROUND.

Globe, Volume XXIV, Issue 2525, 12 May 1882, Page 3

POETRY.

DRINKS ALL ROUND.

A health to Jingo first, and then, A health to shell, a health to shot, The man who hates not other men I deem no perf eot patriot! To all who hold all England mad We drink ; to all who'd tax her food ! We pledge the man who hates the Rad ! We drink to Bartle Frere and Froude ! Drinks all ronnd! Here's to Jingo, King and crowned To the great cause of Jiogo, drink, my boys, And tho great name of Jingo round and round!

To all the companies that long To rob, as folk robbed years ago; To all that wield the double thong, From Queensland round to Borneo ! To all that, under Indian skies, Call Aryan man " a blasted nigger " ; To all rapacious enterprise ; To rigour everywhere, and vigour ! Drinks all round ! Here's to Jißgo, King and crowned To the great name of Jingo, drink, my boys, And every filibuster round and round!

To all our ptatosmen, while they see An outlet new for British trade, Where British fabrics still may be With British size all overweighoi! Wherever gin and guns are sold We're scoopad the artful nigger in ; Where men give ivory and gold, We give them measles, tracts, and gin ! Drink all round ! Here's to Jingo, King and crowned ! To the great name of Jingo, drink, my boys,; And to Aaalteration, round and round.

" Vanity Fair" says :—Through a most extraordinary mistake the new national song has boen ascribed to Mr Alfred Tennyson, whereas, in reality, it was written by Mr Gladstone. Nor is this all. In the version published the most extraordinary and unwarrantable liberties have been taken with the original text of the song, which, as written by Mr Gladstone, reads as follows : HANDS ALL BOUND. First-sink our Queen, this solemn night, Then drink to Russia in the East, That man's the best cosmopolite Who loves his native country least! May Faction's oak for ever live, With larger life, and never fail: That man's the true Conservative

Whom we can gag and put in gaol. Tongues all bound! God the Tory's hope confound * To the great cause of Cloture drink, my friends, And the great name of Gladstone round and round.

To all the loyal hearts who long To keep our Liberal Faction whole ; Who only see expense and wrong In England of the Southern Pole ! To Russia under Indian sHes, Saving us millions for the roalm ! To Canada, the Yankee's prizs, And statesmen who will drop the helm ! Hands all bound! God the Colonies confound ! In the great namo of Oheapness drink, my frieDds, Tho loss of all our Colonics round and round.

To all onr statesmen, so they be True followers of my solo desire ! To both our Houses, may they see Themeelves despised in town and shire ! We failed wherever men could fail, We oringod to many a mighty State— Pray God our smallness may avail To crush ali hopes of keeping great I Hands ofi all round ! God the Patriot's hope confound! To the great cause of Caucus drink, my friends, And the Bmall name of England round and round.