<html xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><body><h1 align="center" class="head">Unser Gott</h1><div class="stanza"><p class="line"><span class="smallcaps">They</span> held a great prayer-service in Berlin,</p><p class="line">And augured German triumph from some words</p><p class="line">Said to be spoken by the Jewish God</p><p class="line">To Gideon, which signified that He</p><p class="line">Was staunchly partial to the Israelites.</p><p class="line">The aisles were thronged; and in the royal box</p><p class="line">(I had it from a tourist who was there,</p><p class="line">Clutching her passport, anxious, like the rest),</p><p class="line">There sat the Kaiser, looking "very sad."</p><p class="line">And then they sang; she said it shook the heart.</p><p class="line">The women sobbed; tears salted bearded lips</p><p class="line">Unheeded; and my friend looked back and saw</p><p class="line">A young girl crumple in her mother's arms.</p><p class="line">They carried out a score of them, she said,</p><p class="line">While German hearts, through bursting German throats</p><p class="line">Poured out, <em>Ein Feste Burg Ist Unser Gott!</em></p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">(Yea, "Unser Gott! Our strength is <em>Unser</em> Gott!</p><p class="line">Not that light-minded Bon Dieu of France!")</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">I think we all have made our God too small.</p><p class="line">There was a young man, a good while ago,</p><p class="line">Who taught that doctrine... but they murdered him</p><p class="line">Because he wished to share the Jewish God</p><p class="line">With other folk.</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:18%">They are long-lived, these fierce</p><p class="line">Old hating Gods of nations; but at last</p><p class="line">There surely will be spilled enough of blood</p><p class="line">To drown them all! The deeps of sea and air,</p><p class="line">Of old the seat of gods, no more are safe,</p><p class="line">For mines and monoplanes. The Germans, now,</p><p class="line">Can surely find and rout the God of France</p><p class="line">With Zeppelins, or some slim mother's son</p><p class="line">Of Paris, or of Tours, or Brittany,</p><p class="line">Can drop a bomb into the <em>Feste Burg</em>,</p><p class="line">And, having crushed the source of German strength,</p><p class="line">Die happy in his blazing monoplane.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">Sad jesting! If there be no God at all,</p><p class="line">Save in the heart of man, why, even so --</p><p class="line">Yea, all the more, -- since we must make our God,</p><p class="line">Oh, let us make Him large enough for all,</p><p class="line">Or cease to prate of Him! If kings must fight,</p><p class="line">Let them fight for their glory, openly,</p><p class="line">And plain men for their lands and for their homes,</p><p class="line">And heady youths, who go to see the fun,</p><p class="line">Blaspheme not God. True, maybe we might leave</p><p class="line">The God of Germany to some poor frau</p><p class="line">Who cannot go, who can but wait and mourn,</p><p class="line">Except that she will teach Him to her sons --</p><p class="line">A God quite scornful of the Slavic soul,</p><p class="line">And much concerned to keep Alsace-Lorraine.</p><p class="line">They should go godless, too -- the poor, benumbed</p><p class="line">Crushed, anguished women, till their hearts can hold</p><p class="line">A greater Comforter!</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line" style="text-indent:22%">(Yet it is hard</p><p class="line">To make Him big enough! For me, I like</p><p class="line">The English and the Germans and the French,</p><p class="line">The Russians, too; and Servians, I should think,</p><p class="line">Might well be very interesting to God.</p><p class="line">But, do the best I may, my God is white,</p><p class="line">And hardly takes a nigger seriously</p><p class="line">This side of Africa. Not those, at least</p><p class="line">Who steal my wood, and of a summer night</p><p class="line">Keep me awake with shouting, where they sit</p><p class="line">With monkey-like fidelity and glee</p><p class="line">Grinding through their well-oiled sausage-mill --</p><p class="line">The dead machinery of the white man's church --</p><p class="line">Raw jungle-fervor, mixed with scraps sucked dry</p><p class="line">Of Israel's old sublimities: not those.</p><p class="line">And when they threaten us, the Higher Race,</p><p class="line">Think you, which side is God's? Oh, let us pray</p><p class="line">Lest blood yet spurt to wash that black skin white,</p><p class="line">As now it flows because a German hates</p><p class="line">A Cossack, and an Austrian a Serb!)</p><p class="line">What was it that he said so long ago,</p><p class="line">The young man who outgrew the Jewish God --</p><p class="line">"Not a sparrow falleth --?" Ah, God, God,</p><p class="line">And there shall fall a million murdered men!</p></div><p class="byline">-- Karle Wilson Baker.</p></body></html> · Great War