Bring Her In!

YEA, bring her in—the scarlet sign of shame! Of shuddering horror to all times and lands! Bring her, though late, to justice. Those, her hands, With children’s blood thick-crusted, are the same That stealing through night’s peaceful curtains came To throttle blameless Belgium; from the brands Of sacked and burning churches those dark bands Befoul her garments, noisome as her name. “Guilty of more than murder!” Not alone Of broken hearts, drained eyes and myriad graves Shall men make up the sum of her dread score, But of faiths blasted, world hopes overthrown. Then judgment write in tears of her bowed slaves, “Earth sickens of her—Let her be no more!”