  "I am the Lord of War", he said, and bared His blade. "Dominion shall be mine alone." East, south, west, north, his clamorous bugles blared, His battle lines were thrown. Then lo! the leopards of England woke from sleep, Roaring their challenge forth across the sea, And France's voice was heard in thunders deep, Calling on Liberty. And Belgium sprang, alert, to meet the foe, And from her mountains Serbia sent her bands, And the great bear of Russia, growling low, Turned from his northern lands. Far over land and sea the summons swept, And Canada, among her fields of grain, Threw down the sickle, caught the sword, and leapt, Shouting, across the main. Australia, hasting from the southward, came; Africa, India, sprang into the fight. "Lo, Kaiser! here our answer to thy claim; Now God shall show the right." Then he who drew the blade looked forth, and saw That ring of steel and fire about his throne, And knew himself at last, with trembling awe, The Lord of Death alone. Norah Holland From "Spun-yarn and Spindrift"—By permission of the Author and J. M. Dent & Sons, Ltd., Toronto |
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