By Douglas S. S. Stuart

WOE UNTO ye who strive against Love’s cause—
    throughout the world to succour and defend
God’s humbler creatures who without a pause
    sustain and serve mankind until their end.
On such as these, by patient servitude
    bestow’n, behold what ye for their reward
Bestow!—and this be mankind’s gratitude,
    ’tis recompense fit to be abhorr’d—
Foul torture chambers and the knacker’s knell
    their requiem, whilst quivering fragments moan
For soul’s release from out each man-made hell
    of suffering, where every nerve and bone
Serve but as matter for each torturer’s test
    and, maybe subject matter for a jest.

Beware! O ye whose eyes can never weep
    for wanton torturing of helpless beasts,
But sink all heedless in untroubled sleep
    gorged to contentment on blood-guilty feasts,
Whose ears are ever deaf against the cry
    of victims writhing in their agony.

O Slaves of Greed, of Vanity,—and worse!
    think ye God may be mocked, His Laws despised?
If ye sow thistles, and thencefrom this curse
    your crops destroy, shall ye be then surprised?
What ye have sown, that ye must surely reap;
    Behold! ’Tis here. War’s “writing on the wall!”
Fail not to heed it! If ye fail ye’ll weep
    such tears of blood and torture, they’ll recall
For your soul’s purging, all that needless pain
    on those whom God committed to your care

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