That fist, which weaker nations view
As if 'twere Michael's own,
And which appals the heathen who
Bow down to wood and stone.

But this trip no brass knuckles. Glove
That heavy mailed hand;
Your mission now is one of Love
And Peace--you understand.

All that's American you'll praise;
The Yank can do no wrong.
To use his own expressive phrase,
Just "jolly him along."

Express surprise to find, the more
Of Roosevelt you see,
How much I am like Theodore,
And Theodore like me.

I am, in fact, (this might not be
A bad thing to suggest,)
The Theodore of the East, and he
The William of the West.

And, should you get a chance, find out--
If anybody knows--
Exactly what it's all about,
That Doctrine of Monroe's.

That's _entre nous_. My present plan
You know as well as I:
Be just as Yankee as you can;
If needs be, eat some pie.

Cut out the 'kraut, cut out Rhine wine,
Cut out the Schuetzenfest,
The Saengerbund, the Turnverein,
The Kommers, and the rest.

And if some fool society
"Die Wacht am Rhein" should sing,
_You_ sing "My Country, 'Tis of Thee"--
The tune's "God Save the King."

To our own kindred in that land
There's not much you need tell.
Just tell them that you saw me, and
That I was looking well.

TO LILLIAN RUSSELL

(_A reminiscence of 18--._)

Dear Lillian! (The "dear" one risks;
"Miss Russell" were a bit austerer)--
Do you remember Mr. Fiske's
_Dramatic Mirror_

Back when--? (But we'll not count the years;
The way they've sped is most surprising.)
You were a trifle in arrears
For advertising.

I brought the bill to your address;
I was the _Mirror's_ bill collector--
In Thespian haunts a more or less
Familiar spectre.

On that (to me) momentous day
You dwelt amid the city's clatter,
A few doors west of old Broadway;
The street--no matter.

But while you have forgot the debt,
And him who called in line of duty,
He never, never shall forget
Your wondrous beauty.

You were too fair for mortal speech,--
Enchanting, positively rippin';
You were some dream, and quelque peach,
And beaucoup pippin.