DER TAG ONCE MORE.
[“One hundred Diplomatists’ Writing Tables, Cupboards, etc., for immediate delivery.—Office Furniture Manufacturers, —— and Co., ——, Berlin.”—The Times “Business Opportunities” column.]
Lightly loose the silken cable,
Swell, ye sails, by zephyrs kissed,
Bearing me the walnut table
Thumped by Bethmann-Hollweg’s fist;
Steering, not by course erratic,
Safe to the appointed wharf,
Bring, O bark, the diplomatic
Kneehole desk of Ludendorff.
Softly now, ye dockers, pardie,
Cease your wrangling for a bit,
Dump the seat whereon Bernhardi
Bowed his dreadful form to sit;
Make no scratch however tiny
When the circling crane-arm sags
On the chair that rendered shiny
Hindenburg’s enormous bags.
Blotting-papered, india-rubbered,
Good as new, with pencils piled,
Bring me the immortal cupboard
Where the Hymn of Hate was filed;
Who can say how oft, when brisker
Beat the heart behind his ribs,
Tirpitz wiped upon a whisker
Pensively these part-worn nibs?
Here are Kultur’s very presses,
Calendars that marked The Day,
Max von Baden’s ink-recesses,
Dernberg’s correspondence-tray;
Gone the imperial years, and cooler
Counsels on the Spree are planned,
Still one may acquire the ruler
Toyed with by a War Lord’s hand.
Waft them then, ye winds, let Fritz’s
Office furniture be mine;
Each one of these priceless bits is
Salvage from a Junker shrine;
Breathing still the ancient essence,
They shall give me, when I speak,
Something of the German presence
And the blazing German cheek.
Evoe.
