“Instigator of the ruin—

   Whichsoever thou mayst be

Of the masterful of Europe

   That contrived our misery—

Hear the wormwood-worded greeting

   From each city, shore, and lea

      Of thy victims:

   “Conqueror, all hail to thee!”

“Yea: ‘All hail!’ we grimly shout thee

   That wast author, fount, and head

Of these wounds, whoever proven

   When our times are throughly read.

‘May thy loved be slighted, blighted,

   And forsaken,’ be it said

      By thy victims,

   ‘And thy children beg their bread!’

“Nay: a richer malediction!—

   Rather let this thing befall

In time’s hurling and unfurling

   On the night when comes thy call;

That compassion dew thy pillow

   And bedrench thy senses all

      For thy victims,

   Till death dark thee with his pall.”

August 1915.