"Deathless" is graven deeper on thy brow;
Ghouls have no power to end thy endless sway.
The Greek of old, the Frenchman of today,
Before thy riven shrine are bending now.
A wounded fortress straightway lieth prone,
Not so the Temple dies; its roof may fall,
The sky its covering vault, an azure pall,
Doth droop to crown its wealth of lacework stone.
Praise to you, Vandal guns of dull intent!
We lacked till now our Beauty's monument
Twice hallowed o'er by insult's brutal hand,
As Pallas owns on Athens' golden hill,
We have it now, thanks to your far-flung brand!
Your shame—our gain, misguided German skill!
"Deathless" is graven deeper on thy brow;
Ghouls have no power to end thy endless sway.
The Greek of old, the Frenchman of today,
Before thy riven shrine are bending now.
A wounded fortress straightway lieth prone,
Not so the Temple dies; its roof may fall,
The sky its covering vault, an azure pall,
Doth droop to crown its wealth of lacework stone.
Praise to you, Vandal guns of dull intent!
We lacked till now our Beauty's monument
Twice hallowed o'er by insult's brutal hand,
As Pallas owns on Athens' golden hill,
We have it now, thanks to your far-flung brand!
Your shame—our gain, misguided German skill!
"Deathless" is graven deeper on thy brow;
Ghouls have no power to end thy endless sway.
The Greek of old, the Frenchman of today,
Before thy riven shrine are bending now.
A wounded fortress straightway lieth prone,
Not so the Temple dies; its roof may fall,
The sky its covering vault, an azure pall,
Doth droop to crown its wealth of lacework stone.
Praise to you, Vandal guns of dull intent!
We lacked till now our Beauty's monument
Twice hallowed o'er by insult's brutal hand,
As Pallas owns on Athens' golden hill,
We have it now, thanks to your far-flung brand!
Your shame—our gain, misguided German skill!
"Deathless" is graven deeper on thy brow;
Ghouls have no power to end thy endless sway.
The Greek of old, the Frenchman of today,
Before thy riven shrine are bending now.
A wounded fortress straightway lieth prone,
Not so the Temple dies; its roof may fall,
The sky its covering vault, an azure pall,
Doth droop to crown its wealth of lacework stone.
Praise to you, Vandal guns of dull intent!
We lacked till now our Beauty's monument
Twice hallowed o'er by insult's brutal hand,
As Pallas owns on Athens' golden hill,
We have it now, thanks to your far-flung brand!
Your shame—our gain, misguided German skill!
Probable Causes and Outcome of the War
By Charles W. Eliot.
President Emeritus of Harvard University; Officer Legion d'Honneur (France); Imperial Order of the Rising Sun, first class (Japan); Royal Prussian Order of the Crown, first class; Grand Officer of the Crown of Italy; Member of the General Education Board, and an original investigator for the cause of international peace.
Following Is Reproduced a Series of Five Letters to THE NEW YORK TIMES from Dr. Eliot, Together with the Comments Thereon by Eminent Critics.