ON the battlefields of birth, Lulled from pain in twilight sleep, Languorous in calm reliance On the Christ-like soul of science, They whose patient soldiership Bore the age-old pangs of earth Till the patient seers of reason set them free — Volunteers, whose valiant warring Is the passion of restoring — Mothers, gentle mothers, bless you, Germany! By the battlefields of death, Racked by prayers that never sleep, Anguished with a wild defiance Of the Satan powers of science, They whose loving guardianship Knit the subtle bonds of breath Till their sons of iron tore them ruthlessly — Victims, whose heart-blinding portion Is their victory's abortion — Mothers, maddened mothers, curse you, Germany! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 3. AMARYLLIS by THOMAS CAMPION THE ILIAD: ACHILLES OVER THE TRENCH by HOMER THE HEATH-COCK by JOANNA BAILLIE SEEKING WATERS by DORIS R. BECK SONNET: MAN VERSUS ASCETIC. 5 by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON |