"The Superman," Robert Grant

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The Superman

The horror-haunted Belgian plains riven by shot and shell

Are strewn with her undaunted sons who stayed the jaws of hell.

In every sunny vale of France death is the countersign.

The purest blood in Britain's veins is being poured like wine.

Far, far across the crimsoned map the impassioned armies sweep.
Destruction flashes down the sky and penetrates the deep.
The Dreadnought knows the silent dread, and seas incarnadine
Attest the carnival of strife, the madman's battle...