(Meaning the part that pinches most) to end?
Is it your fear to mark at that high feast
The writing on the wall that seals your fate,
And where the Christ-star watches in the East
To hear the guns that thunder at your gate?
For on your heart no Christmas Peace can fall.
The chimes shall be a tocsin, and the red
Glow of the Yule-wood embers shall recall
A myriad smouldering pyres of murdered dead.
And anguish, wailing to the wintry skies,