<h2><SPAN name="chap76"></SPAN>SHIPBUILDERS</h2>
<p class="poem">
The German people reared them<br/>
An idol made of wood;<br/>
And Hindenburg before them<br/>
Lifelike and stupid stood.<br/>
<br/>
To clothe him all in iron<br/>
And thus his soul express,<br/>
With nails and spikes they covered<br/>
His wooden nakedness.<br/>
<br/>
And when they, thus had clothed him<br/>
All in a suit of mail,<br/>
Still came they, wild-eyed, looking<br/>
For space to drive a nail.<br/>
<br/>
Whenever Teuton airmen<br/>
Slay boys and girls at play,<br/>
Or U-boats, drowning babies,<br/>
Create a holiday.<br/>
<br/>
Then, gathering round their statue,<br/>
A happy German throng<br/>
Drive nails into the idol<br/>
To make him still more strong.<br/>
<br/>
Avenge the babes, shipbuilders,<br/>
That on the seas have died;<br/>
Avenge the little children<br/>
Murdered for Wilhelm’s pride.<br/>
<br/>
Come, gather at the shipyards,<br/>
And let your hammers ring,<br/>
For more than ships and cargoes<br/>
Waits on your fashioning.<br/>
<br/>
Come, gather at the shipyards;<br/>
With every bolt you drive<br/>
Bethink you ’tis the Kaiser<br/>
Whose brutish head you rive.<br/>
<br/>
Come, gather at the shipyards,<br/>
And swing with might and main;<br/>
’Tis Tirpitz and the Crown Prince<br/>
That you to-day have slain.<br/>
<br/>
Come, gather at the shipyards,<br/>
And heat the metal hot,<br/>
For it is Bethmann Hollweg<br/>
You’re boiling in the pot.<br/>
<br/>
Come, gather at the shipyards,—<br/>
And when the day is done,<br/>
You’ve spent it in driving spikes,<br/>
In Hindernburg the Hun.<br/>
<br/>
Come, gather at the shipyards,<br/>
And toil with healthy hate,<br/>
For only you can save the world,<br/>
The Hun is at the gate.<br/></p>
<p class="left">
ARTHUR STANWOOD PIER</p>
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