BY (REV.) JOSEPH C. BOOTH.
Our battledogs have gone
To hunt the submarines;
They're helping cousin John
To catch the fox-machines.
Their speed is known afar,
Their scent is keen and strong;
Those dreadful dogs of war
To Uncle Sam belong:
When on the track the fox they mark
The world will hear their awful bark!
The U-boats, shrewd and sly,
Are tricky to the core;
When helpless ships go by,
They glut themselves with gore!
When battledogs appear
The foxy submarine
Darts in his hole, for fear;
No periscope is seen:
But soon our grey-hounds of the sea
Will bag the fox and set us free!
the writing's on the wall:
"Autocracy is doomed:"
The lords of war shall fall
With all their pride entombed!
Democracy will then
The world for God command;
Then men will live like men
Each other understand:
Their highest aim—their fellows' good—
A universal Brotherhood!
Troy Times. July 16, 1917
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