<html xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><body><h1 align="center" class="head">The Superman</h1><div class="stanza"><p class="line"><span class="smallcaps">The</span> horror-haunted Belgian plains riven by shot and shell</p><p class="line">Are strewn with her undaunted sons who stayed the jaws of hell.</p><p class="line">In every sunny vale of France death is the countersign.</p><p class="line">The purest blood in Britain's veins is being poured like wine.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">Far, far across the crimsoned map the impassioned armies sweep.</p><p class="line">Destruction flashes down the sky and penetrates the deep.</p><p class="line">The Dreadnought knows the silent dread, and seas incarnadine</p><p class="line">Attest the carnival of strife, the madman's battle scene.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">Relentless, savage, hot, and grim the infuriate columns press</p><p class="line">Where terror simulates disdain and danger is largess,</p><p class="line">Where greedy youth claims death for bride and agony seems bliss.</p><p class="line">It is the cause, the cause, my soul! which sanctifies all this.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">Ride, Cossacks, ride! Charge, Turcos, charge! The fateful hour has come.</p><p class="line">Let all the guns of Britain roar or be forever dumb.</p><p class="line">The Superman has burst his bonds. With Kultur-flag unfurled</p><p class="line">And prayer on lip he runs amuck, imperilling the world.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">The impious creed that might is right in him personified</p><p class="line">Bids all creation bend before the insatiate Teuton pride,</p><p class="line">Which, nourished on Valhalla dreams of empire unconfined,</p><p class="line">Would make the cannon and the sword the despots of mankind.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">Efficient, thorough, strong, and brave -- his vision is to kill.</p><p class="line">Force is the hearthstone of his might, the pole-star of his will.</p><p class="line">His forges glow malevolent: their minions never tire</p><p class="line">To deck the goddess of his lust whose twins are blood and fire.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">O world grown sick with butchery and manifold distress!</p><p class="line">O broken Belgium robbed of all save grief and ghastliness!</p><p class="line">Should Prussian power enslave the world and arrogance prevail,</p><p class="line">Let chaos come, let Moloch rule, and Christ give place to Baal.</p></div><p class="byline">Robert Grant</p></body></html> · Great War