BELGIUM 1914 - POLAND 1939
Lord, how long shall the wicked triumph? Yet they say, The Lord doth not see.
He that planted the ear, shall he not hear !
He that formed the eye, shall 1w not see ! (Ps. xciv.) ACROSS the garden of Europe
An iron plough is drawn, Blotting in senseless ruin Pasture and path and lawn: Across the wells of Europe A bitter sea is loosed, Turning to brine, sour and malign, The waters that we used.
Twice in our lives one nation Has set this savage course, Contemptuously defying Right And deifying Force ; Blackening the sun with falsehoods ; Trampling on pacts roughshod ; And shrining above Calvary Red Moloch for its god.
And now once more quick slaughter Crowns outrage long prepared ; The ruffian wolf that leaped the fold No lamb in it has spared ; And now once more pale shepherds Hard-striving hem him round ; And many a throat his fangs may tear, Before he crash to ground.
Yet crash he must! Heaven's justice Shall trail his path abhorred ; His pack that in the sword rejoiced Shall perish by the sword: Men, and not wolves, shall triumph, By law, not terror, ruled:
Earth, ocean, air and stars declare That doom. God is not fooled.
R. C. R. ENSOR.
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