Mrs. Nation, your work at a distance,
 Away beyond fathomless seas,
Has lent a fine spice to existence:
 Your methods exhilarate, please.
Distasteful to those who are near you,
 You’re loved and admired from afar;
We chuckle and grin when we hear you
 Have visited somebody’s bar.

But, ah! our enjoyment is undone,
 Our satisfied smiles disappear
When we read that you’re coming to London,
 To look after publicans here.
Your raids in Topeka and Kansas
 Appeared merely excellent fun:
In the Strand they would lose all romance, as
 A joke that had been overdone.

Mrs. ——, may I address you as Carrie?
 Oh! pause, ere you visit us, pray:
Reflect how much good, if you tarry,
 You may do to the great U.S.A.
For them whet the edge of your hatchet,
 Exhibit your wonderful powers;
If somebody’s destined to catch it,
 Their need is much greater than ours.

Does America harbour no cocktails,
 And draw no detestable cork?
Have you ceased, then, to hear, with a shock, tales
 Of the gilded saloons of New York?
There’s work for you there. Quite enormous
 Are the ills it’s your duty to fight.
Oh! ere you attempt to reform us,
 Just see that the Yankee’s all right.

Note:

“TROUBLE AHEAD. Next year, England is likely to have a visit from Mrs. Carrie Nation, the temperance advocate, whose axe wrought so much damage in the saloons of Kansas. A letter of invitation signed by many temperance enthusiasts has been sent to her, and a prominent member of the temperance movement states that when in America a few weeks ago she expressed the opinion that her mission for temperance reform would certainly carry her to England early next year.”

— John Dawson