We Yankees ain't given to brag;
John Bull, we expect, has no notion
Of going to war; but his flag
If he does, we shall sweep from the ocean
And when the old vagabond lies
In a state of teetotal prostration,
Old Ireland in glory will rise,
Independence to win as a nation.
Our breadstuffs from England kept back,
The sequel must be destitution.
Her famishing millions, in lack
Of food, will force on revolution.
Victoria will have to retire;
Aristocracy, friends of Secession
Will be hurled down, and trod in the mire;
No more for to practise oppression.
Rebellion we'll bring to an end,
The slaves 'mongst our heroes dividing,
Or arms to the niggers we'll lend,
To give their darned masters a hiding.
Work up all our cotton at home,
Let not one more bale be exported,
Have the world at our feet, like old Rome,
By the kings of the airth as was courted.
Want money? I reckon not we;
A national debt we'll create,
Twice as heavy as yourn, which will be,
For Samsons like we air, no weight.
On Government bonds we shall borrow
Any money in Europe with ease.
Why London and Paris, to-morrow
Will lend us as much as we please.
Foreign goods we shall purchase with paper,
Which let foreign usurers hold;
The British may swagger and vapour,
At home whilst we keep all our gold.
As Belmont to Seward has written,
Any stock may in Europe be "placed,"
And the chance, if the Rothschilds ain't bitten,
Will be by the Barings embraced
We've twice before whipped all creation,
We've now got to whip it again.
We air a remarkable nation
Of modest, but resolute men.
John Bull, then, allow us to kick you,
And don't go resenting the act,
Or into a cocked hat we'll lick you,
Yes, Sir-ree, you old hoss, that's a fact.
The manly and tactful apology which represented the feeling of the better sort of folk in America, and which was wrung from a reluctant cabinet by Abraham Lincoln, softened for a moment the asperity of our old antagonist. The following rather amiable verses were written in anticipation of the amicable settlement which already (January 11, 1862), seemed probable:
A FAIR OFFER FROM JOHN BULL TO MISS COLUMBIA
Shall we kiss and be friends? Why not? Sister Columbia,
No more ugly faces let you and me pull;
Though we both have our tempers, our worries and troubles,
Let "bygones be bygones" for me, says John Bull.
You must own that you've given me a deal of bad language,
And have been far too free with your bunkum and brag;
That I'll pocket, if now, like a sensible woman,
You'll disclaim your friend Wilkes, and salute the old flag.