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Poem	Chris Watson, of the Parliament, By his Caucus Gods he swore That the great Labor Party Should suffer wrong no more. By his Caucus Gods he swore it, And named a trysting day, And bade his Socialists ride forth, East and west and south and north, To summon his array. East and west and south and north The Socialists ride fast, And every town in New South Wales Has heard their trumpet's blast. Shame to the false elector Who lingers in his hole, While Watson and his myrmidons Are riding to the poll. Then up spake brave Horatius Gould, And a Liberal proud was he, "Now, who will stand on either hand And face the foe with me?" Then out spake bold Herminius Millen, And Walker out spake he, "We will abide on either side And win a seat with thee." "'Tis well", quoth brave Horatuis, "As thou sayest, so let it be." And straight against the proletaire Forth went the dauntless three.
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