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Make slaves of them, the Hybrids, The stinking German swine, Extirpate and castrate
The monsters from the Rhine
Down with the cowardly german breed, No matter who they be.
Place them not in power again
Or you’ll rue the day, believe me.
They sunk the Lusitania
They murdered nuns at Rheims
May I live to see the day, I pray,
No more german Kings or Queens.
I hate all germans from my heart
Not one but germans all
I want Britannia rules the waves
Upon the Bugle call.
Poor innocent men, women, kids You sunk out on the Irish coast Cursed are you by God and men Who yet in hell will roast.
A Welshman or a scotchman Or the boy from Paddy’s land, Place of the crown of England Ever to thee they’ll nobly stand.
[End of English quote]
You can hardly call it a poem, but from all the muddle deep hatred speaks.
In many places they’ve established Anti-German Leagues in order to extinguish Germanness and, above all, German commerce, for that’s what they’re mainly after. There are some reasonable people left, however, as one can conclude from the following sarcastic article in the New Age of 27th May 1915.