TO THE GERMAN FLEET.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LVII, Issue 208, 11 February 1915, Page 7

TO THE GERMAN FLEET.

AX APPRECIATIVE ODE. Ho, haul in your clacks, and I'll pipe you a lay To the great, to the good, to the gallant, the, gay, The wonderful fleet that's so fierce in the fray, That it's resting content with it's keels in the clay, Hiding itself like a needle in hay, Flaunting the eagle that's merely a jay. Lolling at leisure and drawing its pay, Or showing the world that in running away, It's au fait.

Its wonderful tars, they're the pride of the seas, Treading their decks as if walking on pear. Scanning the skies for the favoring breeze, They shiver in silence, they start at a sneeze, Trapped there like mice who can't even say cheese, Yet thanking their stars for mercies like these, Contented to stew (they are mostly obese)

In their grease. Did ever the world see such marvellous men, One of their sort is equal to ten British sailors—but no one knows when. Waiting aye waiting, to dart from their den, Like, sheep at a shearing cooped up in a pell, Jlerot-s each one with the heart of a lien If their prayer be "for never and never, Amen."

Well, what then ? While the blood of their brothers is dyeing the sod, They are pleased, it would seem, to be kissing the rod, Riding at anchor invoking their god, Hoping that Wilhelin will give them a nod, (They did comri out once; 'twas to capture a cod) Vroin tin- innocent fishermen now safe in quod, Hut wait you: we'll shell them vet out of their pod, They're' a fraud!