CRY OF THE HOMELESS

“Instigator of the ruin -

Whichsoever thou mayst be

Of the masterful of Europe

That contrived our misery -

Hear the wormwood-worded greeting

From each city, shore, and lea

Of thy victims:

“Conqueror, all hail to thee!”

“Yea:‘ All hail!’ we grimly shout thee

That wast author, fount, and head

Of these wounds, whoever proven

When our times are throughly read.

‘ May thy loved be slighted, blighted,

And forsaken,’ be it said

By thy victims,

‘ And thy children beg their bread!’

“Nay: a richer malediction! -

Rather let this thing befall

In time's hurling and unfurling

On the night when comes thy call;

That compassion dew thy pillow

And bedrench thy senses all

For thy victims,

Till death dark thee with his pall.”