wunder · Library

Part 16

The New York Times Current History: the European War, February, 1915 · Various — chapter 16 of 74 · ~314 words · public domain

Read in the Wunder reader — free

Beside my ruined cottage, desolate, The children cowering 'round me, mute from fright, With tearless eyes and brooding heart, I wait, Watching through all the long, the weary night. God of the homeless, look from Heaven and see! Out of the deeps, a woman calls on Thee!

My little ones, they cry all day for bread, And, 'neath the shelter of my meagre breast, Stirs one unborn, who must e'er long be fed-- Another babe to hunger with the rest. Madonna Mary, hear a mother's moan! Pity the travail I must bear alone!

The tasseled corn would plenteous harvest yield, But all the crops are rotting in the sun. Where are the reapers? On some battlefield They fight for nought and die there, one by one! God's comfort be upon them where they lie, Sheep to war's shambles driven--who knows why? Death and destruction walk by day, by night, Men's blood is spilt and sacrificed in vain, While women wait for tidings of the fight Who may not even sepulchre their slain! They say "God's in His Heaven"--but, instead, 'Twould seem He is asleep--or, maybe, dead!

A PHOTOGRAPHIC REVIEW OF THE WAR

CONSISTING OF A CAREFULLY SELECTED SERIES OF THE BEST PICTURES OF THE WAR PRINTED IN ROTOGRAVURE