Rotting unburied in the sunbeam’s light,
With teeth laid bare by yellow lips curled back
Most hideously; whose tortured souls took flight
Leaving your limbs, all mangled by the fight,
In attitudes of horror fouler far
Than dreams which haunt a devil’s brain at night;
Because of you I loathe the name of War.
Mothers and maids who loved you, and the wives
Bereft of your sweet presences; yea, all
Who knew you beautiful; and those small lives