And murdered and mangled and maimed;
Twelve million men, by the stroke of the pen,
To be slaughtered—and no one ashamed.
Mountains of wealth to be wasted,
Oceans of tears to be shed,
Valleys of light to be turned into night,
Rivers of blood to run red.
Thousands of wives to be widowed,
Millions of mothers to mourn,
Thousands in sorrow to wait the to-morrow,