THE WAR-GOD SPEAKS.

Observer, Volume XXXV, Issue 20, 23 January 1915, Page 23

THE WAR-GOD SPEAKS.

[Fob thb Observes]

Battle that never ceases— Ruined villas and towns; Dead men, blown to pieces, Scattered all over the downs. Wounded, who welter in gore, Paddocks and hillocks strew; I am the Great God, War, And thisi is the work I do. How I chuckle with glee When folk can't find a bed! What is it to me That rivers and hills run red ? Firing shells, I maim Horses and soldiers, too; That is part of the game, Part of the work I do. Why should I heed the cries Of children without a dad? The widow, with tearful eyes, Tired, hungry, and going mad? The mother without a son Weeping the long night through P This is part of the fun— ~ Fruit of the deeds I do. Why should I turn away From the spoils of my bloody hands? Look at Belgium to-day, Where scarcely a cottage stands! Crushing the population __.. Cities I...overthrew, . People of every nation Look at the things I do ! ur, Liege, Louvain, Ghent, where the vulture dines, In these lie the bleeding slain _ Thick as the grapes on. the vines. Even I can't tell The number of dead to you, Here, in this blazing Hell Where the good work I do. 0, I am grand, I am I What would life be worth If the lion slept with the lamb AndrPeace lay over the earth? "To arms" is my battle-call— A call that is always new; 1, who am ruling you all, Laugh at the work I do! E. L. Eyre.