Classic Poem

With fingers in Belgium blood!
With garments all stained and red!
The Kaiser sat in his robe of shame—
“I am the War-god,” he said.
“Kill, kill, kill!
Plunder, ravage, fight”—
And loud in a voice the world to fill—
He sang the song of his might.

“Kill, kill, kill!
Grant, America stands aloof!
Kill, kill, kill!
While the stars shine through the roof.
'Tis oh! to be a god!
My soldiers dare not shirk,
And never a woman or child we'll save,
Ah! this is warriors' work!”

“Kill, kill, kill!
Till the brain begins to swim.
Kill, kill, kill!
Till the eyes are heavy and dim.
Man and woman and child,
Child and woman and man,
Who cares for their lives, kill on until
The lord of the world I am!”

“Oh! men with German blood!
Oh! men with mothers and wives!
Your foremost duty is to take
All British people's lives.
Kill, kill, kill!
In hunger, fatigue and pain—
Killing to win, for we dare not lose,
And let the Allies gain!”

“But why do I talk of loss!
That phantom of grisly bone.
I do not fear his terrible shape,
The world is mine alone.
The world is mine alone
Because of my godhead's might
Mein Gott! Those British are but dogs,
I'll make them fear my might!

“Kill, kill, kill!
My army never stops,
And what are its wages? What's that to me?
It marches till it drops.
That hungry man, that worn-out boy,
Are mine for good or ill—
Their bodies are mine, their souls are mine,
Their lives are but my will!

Kill, kill, kill!
From weary chime to chime!
Kill, kill, kill!
The helpless all the time.
Fight and ravage and burn,
Burn and ravage and fight;”
And thus in a voice of dolorous pitch
He sang the song of his might!