Punch/Volume 147/Issue 3834/The War-Lord's New Year's Eve
Kaiser, what vigil will you keep to-night? Before the altar will you lay againYour "shining armour," and renew your plight To wear it ever clean of stain?
Or, while your priesthood chants the Hymn of Hate, Like incense will you lift to God your breathIn praise that you are privileged by fate To do His little ones to death?
Will Brother Henry, knowing well the scene That saw your cruisers' latest gallant feat,Kneel at your side, and ask with pious mient A special blessing on the fleet?
Will you make "resolutions?"—saying, "Lo! I will be humble. Though my own bright swordHas shattered Belgium, yet will I bestow The credit on a higher Lord.
"What am I but His minister of doom? The smoke of burning temples shall ascend,With none to intercept the savoury fume, Straight upward to my honoured Friend."
Or does your heart admit, in hours like these, God is not mocked with words: His judgment stands;Nor all the waters of His cleansing seas Can wash the blood-guilt from your hands?
Make your account with Him as best you can. What other hope has this New Year to give?For outraged earth has laid on you a ban Not to be lifted while you live.O.S.