Goliath was a giant, the bully of his side,
His coat of mail was brazen, his face was fierce with pride;
And when a shepherd stripling to challenge him was fain,
Eleven-foot Goliath ignored him in disdain.

But David didn’t trouble, his heart was cool and glad,
Though a sling and rounded pebbles were the only arms he had.
That slender slip of Jesse, he knew his cause was just,
So he stood up to the bully, and rolled him in the dust.

Those days are gone for ever, but the bully strain survives,
Though at the time of writing one can hardly say it thrives;
The chant of Chauvinism has become an idly yarn,
Like the “negligible British” since the Battle of the Marne.

Our German-made Goliath taunted Tommy on his size,
But the drubbing Tommy gave him has caused him much surprise;
And a hasty memorandum in the Teuton mind is stored—
“The little British Army must never be ignored.”