Give peace: that is rooted in Right. Give peace: that is strengthened by Grace. Give peace: that we stand in your sight, Thrice over a justified race. ’Tis peace—and with honour—we need, And the child of our child shall award The praise for our failing, or deed. Give peace in our time, O Lord! *THE KING OF OOJEE-MOOJEE* We ’ave stowed our ammunition, we ’ave taken in our store, An’ our very last instructions we ’ave ’ad by semy-fore; The Flagship’s made a signal, ’We wish you all success,’ An’ we’re off to Oojee-Moojee on the armoured cruiser ’Bess.’ _For the King of Oojee-Moojee_ _Is a-comin of ’is tricks,_ _’E’s cheeked the English Consul,_ _An ’e’s chucked ’is wooden bricks._ _’E won’t do kindergarden,_ _An’ ’e’s done ’is lessons wrong;_ _Altogether Oojee-Moojee_ _Is a-comin’ of it strong!_ An’ the Point is miles be’ind us, an’ ’eadquarters furder still; We’ve exchanged a friendly greetin’ wi’ the bloke on Signal ’Ill; We are off to Oojee-Moojee, an’ we cannot be detained, For relations dip-lo-matic ’ave become a trifle strained! Now the King of Oojee-Moojee is a little coloured kid; An’ ’e rules some thousand niggers, an’ ’e does as ’e is bid! For the Government of England, with ’is interests in view, ’As civilised ’is country—an’ collects ’is revenue! For the King wot reigned afore ’im was an ’eathen nigger thief, So we sent a missionary, for to teach ’im our belief. (To prevent misunderstandin’s, an’ avoid unpleasant scenes, We likewise sent an ’Otchkiss, an’ a ’undred red marines.) ’E wouldn’t take our gospel, an’ unpleasantness arose, Which cost six whites, and niggermen proportionate to those; An’ we left the King a-swingin’ from a ’Lyptus tree above, Just to show as there was iron underneath the velvet glove. Then our skipper very kindly did an ’andsome sort of thing, For ’e made a proclamation that the nevvy of the King— A funny little kiddy, with a sat-on sorter face— Should rule the Oojee-Moojee, an’ should take ’is uncle’s place. So we dressed ’im up in velvets, an’ we fed ’im up on buns, An’ we gave ’is bit of buntin’ a salute of twenty guns, An’ we gave to ’im a doctor for to cure ’is chills an’ croups; With a tutor, an’ a gen’ral for to organise ’is troops. So ’is tutor taught ’im manners, an’ the way to part ’is ’air, An’ the gen’ral, in ’is spare time, taught ’im proper ways to sware; The doctor, to complete ’im, was a-teaching him to mill— When ’is ’ighness put the veto on the Education Bill.