  1899 TIME was he sang the British Brute, The ruthless lion’s grasping greed, The European Law of Loot, The despot’s devastating deed; But now he sings the heavenly creed Of saintly sword and friendly fist, He loves you, though he makes you bleed— The Ethical Expansionist! He loves you, Heathen! Though his foot May kick you like a worthless weed From that wild field where you have root, And scatter to the winds your seed; He’s just the government you need; If you object, why, he’ll insist, And, on your protest, “draw a bead”— The Ethical Expansionist! He’ll take you to him coute que coute! He’ll win you, though you fight and plead. His guns shall urge his ardent suit, In time you’ll learn to write and read, (That is, if you should then exist!) You won’t, if you his course impede— The Ethical Expansionist! ENVIO Heathen, you must, you shall be freed! It’s really useless to resist; To save your life, you’d better heed The Ethical Expansionist! Hilda Johnson. |
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