AT LAST WAR ENDS
And still the War went on: till only ten
Were left to win the War; they fought; and then,
Then there were no more men.
There was a gloom of apprehension lest
For lack of flesh the first and last and best
Of wars might be suppressed.
But Mars was far too sage to be surprised.
Now that the race of men were quite demised,
The women mobilized.
So now for gassier gas and flamier flame!
Compared with what the present War became,
The old War was a game.
The old had fifty years in which to thrive;
When this had lasted only twenty-five,
Two dames remained alive.
With flammen-werfer strictly up-to-date,
They stalked each other, singing Hymns of Hate:
—But one was just too late!
The Victress trying vainly to decide
For whom her late opponent had just died,
Committed suicide.
So now the world consisted but of trees
And dogs and beetles livid with disease,
And babies blue with fleas.
Trees, dogs, and beetles perished from the day.
Like flies brought crawling earthwards by a spray,
The babies dropped away.
Now truly War seemed ended. Mars was pained
Beyond expression till he ascertained,
Two babes, thank God! remained.
He fired them with the fury of all wars.
A bloody hunger stung their toothless jaws.
They squealed—"The Cause! The Cause!"
Black to the blinding noon they foamed and swore.
Each from his brother's breast the red heart tore.
Then there was War no more.
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EDINBURGH