The Corpse that Kicked

The Soul Has Fled

Mr Hughes says that the Labor Party has lost its soul as well as its brains, and that since 1917 it has been going steadily down hill. Mr Charlton declares the wish is father to the thought, and that the soul of Labor will shine as brilliantly as ever after the elections.

The soul has fled.  The corpse is left,
    But it refuses to behave
As should a corpse of soul bereft.
    Indecently it leaves the grave.
Death left it with a gift for talk,
    And frequently it takes a walk.

It walks beyond the plain white fence,
    That hems the little crowded plot,
And soul or not, it has the sense
    To give opponents shot for shot.
A corpse that holds aggressive views
    Is something new on Mister Hughes.

The soul has fled, and none can tell
    Where it has found a home--
but wait.
We can't believe it went to well,
    The place that has no pearly gate.
In spite of Labor's sad decrease,
    It surely could not rest in peace.

The inference, I take it friends
    (Perhaps my views are up the pole),
Or Mr Hughes may make amends
    For thus consigning Labor's soul.
Though I can scarcely think it true,
    Is that our William now has two.

He also tries to make it clear,
    That when the soul escaped its 
chains,
In sorrow rather than in fear,
    It also lifted Labor's brains.
The claim is praps a trifle hot,
    That William has annexed the lot.

The soul has fled, and changed its coat,
    But fickle are the ways of Fate;
And while it now pretends to gloat,
    The corpse is hastened to wait.
Until the Keeper takes his toll,
    Until the battle at the Poll,
Then the Lord have mercy on that 
soul!