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Dyddiad: 29 Mehefin 1918



One more plucky old ship gone down—
Ten men shot in an open boat—
Six more widows about the town —
One more little account to note:
And if she'd gone down to a decent crew
It's little there'd be to pay,
But God, I'll do what a man can do
To punish the likes of they—

O never a Fritz shall sail
In a ship that sails with me,
Never a box or bale
That smells of Germany.
Never the likes of they
Shall soil the English shore
Till the seamen of England say,
"You've settled the seamen's score."

I used to think that the sailor man,
Whatever his alien breed might be,
Was somehow built on a healthy plan
And much of a piece with you and me.
But men who laugh while a good man drowns
Are made of a different clay,
And I'll sail with the scum of the world's worst towns,
But not with the likes of they—
No, never a Fritz shall sail, &c.

(A. P. HERBERT in "The Globe.")

Herbert, A. P. ‘The Likes of They.’ The Brecon County Times: War Supplement. 29 Mehefin 1918. 2.

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