Above: Gray patches in a leaden sky Of clouds inwoven, mingling with the flanks Of withering spitfires, caught in serried ranks, Bent on destruction as the bombers fly.
Below: Throughout the land the legions hie, With girted mitrailleuse and pounding tanks, To quell the onslaught o'er the weltering banks And, void of fear, the encircling Force defy!
Around: A hapless World whose anxious thought, The havoc and distress which War hath wrought, Draws hope from prayer—uplifted thus to Heaven—That peace and plenty unto Earth be given And youth speed not to an untimely death Nor millions famish," chilled by Hunger's breath
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.