Purring as hard as tiger-cats at play purr
With velvet padding round your claws of steel;
A pretty piece of acting,
But, ere we treat, those claws'll want extracting.

You thought that you had just to moot the question
And say you felt the closing hour had come
And we should simply jump at your suggestion
And all the Hague with overtures would hum;
You'd but to call her up,
And Peace would follow like a well-bred pup.

But Peace and War are twain (see _Chadband's_ platitude);
War you could summon by your single self,
But Peace--for she adopts a stickier attitude--
Takes two to mobilise her off the shelf;
Unless one side's so weak
That, try his best, he cannot raise a squeak.

When things are thus and you have had your beating,
We'll talk and you can listen. Better cheer
I've none to offer you by way of greeting,
But this should help you through the glad New Year;
It lacks for grace, I own,
But let its true sincerity atone!

O.S.

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