The Poets & The War XLVIII

By Lord Alfred Douglas.
The War Illustrated, Volume 5, No. 104, Page 94, August 29, 1941.

Not that of old I loved you over-much
Or followed your quick changes with great glee,
While through grim paths of hard hostility
You fought your way, using the sword or crutch
To serve occasion. Yours it was to clutch
And lose again. Lacking the charity
Which looks behind the mask, I did not see
The immanent shadow of "the Winston touch".

Axe for embedded Evil's cancerous roots,
When the whole world war one vast funeral pyre,
Like genie smoke you rose a giant form
Clothed with the Addisonian attributes
Of God-directed angel. Like your Sire
You rode the whirlwind and out-stormed the storm.

Daily Mail.

Aug1941

London Bridge Cannot Fall Down

"London Bridge is falling down", we hear the mad Hun cry; Each city shorn, each village torn, by terror from the sky. False thought of victory nearly won, and losses they deny, They have forgotten

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The Poets & The War

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