A GAME OF CHESS

We ranged the chessmen on the chequered deal.

And then I said, “To make the game more real

We'll play the Great War. I'll be Germany;

For you, I guess, the Goth would never be.”

And thus it came that I chose black — he, white.

He on Truth's side; I clothed myself with night.

And, crying for a sign unto the Lord,

We cramped all Europe in a foot-square board.

We were two Causes — I, who did detest

That Wrong should triumph, though it were in jest,

Played with soul-sinews cracking, played with zest;

And, every heart-cell beating battle's drum,

I struck with Queen and pawns for Belgium.

I've never played as on that fateful night,

I fairly lost my temper in the fight,

Queens left their thrones; pawns, castles strewed the table,

There never were two causes so unstable.

And then when he'd six pieces, and I eight,

Half of them pawns, he pulled the noose of fate;

And with a knight, a castle — unawares,—

A bishop in a corner breathing prayers,

He caught me tripping. “Checkmate! Smashed!” he said,

And like a beaten Hun I stole to bed.