Punch/Volume 147/Issue 3825/Canute and the Kaiser
[Thoughts extracted from a sea-shell (howitzer pattern) by Our Own Special Conchologist on the Belgian Coast.]
There was a King by name Canute
(In ancient jargon known as Knut),
And I, for one, will not dispute
The kingly figure which he cut;
A god in mufti—so his courtiers said—
Whatever thing he chose to have a try at,
He did it (loosely speaking) on his head,
By just remarking, "Fiat!"
One day they sat him by the sea
To put his virtue to the test,
And there, without conviction, he
Threw off the following, by request:—
"Ocean," he said, "I see your waves are wet"
(Bravely he spoke, but in his heart he funked 'em),
"So to your further progress here I set
A period, or punctum."
He knew it wasn't any good
Talking like that; and when the foam
Made for his feet (he knew it would)
He turned at once and made for home;
And "I'm no god, but just a man," he cried,
"And you, my sycophants, are sorry rotters,
Who told your Knut that he could dare the tide
To damp his heavenly trotters."
*****
The scene was changed. Another strand;
Another god (alleged) was there
(In spirit, you must understand;
His actual frame occurred elsewhere);—
"O element designed for German ships,
Whose future lies," said he, "upon the water,
I strike at England! Ho!" and licked his lips
For lust of loot and slaughter.
Then by the sea was answer made,
And down the wind this word was blown:
"Thus far! but here your steps are stayed;
England is mine, I guard my own!"
And as upon his ear this challenge fell,
Out of the deep there also fell upon it, or
Close in the neighbourhood, a singing shell
From H.M. Mersey Monitor.
And just as old Canute (or Knut)
Stopped not to parley when he found
His line of exit nearly cut,
But moved his feet to drier ground,
So too that other Monarch, much concerned
About his safety, looked no longer foam-ward,
But said, "This sea's too much for me," and turned
Strategically home-ward.