The Infallible

“The Prime Minister has authorised me to say that there will be no disaster in the fruit industry this year.” The crop will be gathered.—The Minister for Customs (Mr Hoskins).

Lo, he has spoken! All's right with
    the world.
Floods, famine, fires and other
    dread disasters
Shall not overwhelm us while he is
    not hurled
From his high post above, by us,
    his ministers.
Disturb him not, and peace shall be
    For Hughes has spoken.

Do we desire rich crops? He waves
    his hand.
And we are wafted straight into
    Utopia!
The rarest riches shower on the
    land.
Poured out from his capacious
    cornucopia,
Our purse grows fat, unlimited our
    credit.
For Hughes has said it.

He nods, and smiling orchards, fruited
    deep,
All suddenly appear in barren places,
Wool sprouteth abnormally upon the
    sheep,
And men back all the winners at the
    races,
Corn shall we have, and wine too, if
    we need it.
He has decreed it.

Keep him in power, and we can't go
    wrong;
He rules us with a hand light as
    a feather.
He lifts it carelessly, and brings along
    Prosperity and peace and perfect
    weather.
The whole wide land with riches he is
    filling
By merely willing.

But heed! Beware! Seek not to pull
    him down!
Or all the continent, from York to
    Leeuwun,
Becomes a desert, countryside, and
    town
Will be o'erwhelmed and blighted
    with blue ruin.
And sent (employing one of his pet
    phrases)
To blithering blazes.