THE WAR.

Stratford Evening Post, Volume XXV, Issue 293, 9 December 1914, Page 7

THE WAR.

The storm of war has broken at last, Spreading death with every blast. \\ nere mansions stood or iiumuio coi Jflood-drenched ruins now mark tixspot. Where once stood fields of golden % grain, -Sow lie in thousands heroes slain. I'lie babbling brook now crimson runs. And the air vibrates with the roar m guns. j-^arK' 10 the growl of the mitrailleuse, j.ikc ten tnousand fiends from hell lev loose; nark! to the clash of steel on steel • oce how the broken battalions reel. Hark! to the scream as the steel speeds on, Look where the crash tells its work L done, that blood-stained heap ail mangled and torn, Leaves wives and mothers at home ti mourn. At night in the trenches midst blood and mire, -Vo roof to cover them, no welcome lire, Men huddled together as best tne. may, Aaiting for dawn to, commence the fray; While wounded out on the battle plain Lie friend and fob among the slain.

ad this, the work of a fanatic, u curse to tho land of his birtn. tlo lays claim to tfio title, Heaven help him tGod’s instrument; on earth), nis plan is to trample on Europe, to ‘ bring it all under iiis heel, de cares not a jot for the lives that are lost or how the bereaved ones may feel; But now he has started out thoroughly on tho road that’s to bring him to fame. He’ll find before he has finished he’s not the only one playing the game. He says that Britain is decadent, given up solely to sport, But he’ll find before it is over, a disaster one hasn’t to court. He has boasted for years has this tyrant. Ho means to be King of the Earth; lint he’s likely to find that the bubble has burst and a gaol at the end ii not worse. So come all ye Britons ,who are able and strong, And keep up the name that your coun- | try has won. We’ll wipe off the earth this doer of wrong; So come all ivho can shoulder a gun. —W.L., Toko. December 4th, 1914.