Aufwiedersehen, brother mine!
Farewells will soon be kissed;
And ere you leave to breast the brine
Give me once more your fist;
That mailéd fist, clenched high in air
On many a foreign shore,
Enforcing coaling stations where
No stations were before;
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 mailéd 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 Schützenfest,
The Sängerbund, 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.