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Excerpt from The Civilian, Vol. 9: December 22, 1916 Sons of the mothers of the Earth, who out of love were born, Go forth in majesty of health and come back mained and torn. Caught in the whirlpool of the war, all raging, battle-swirled, Rolling and reeling, bloody-foamed, labours the frenzied world. Who dare cry peace where all is strife; Who bid the conict cease? Who dares to kneel beside the crib which thrones the Prince of Peace? Behold! It is the Christmas time, the feast of Him divine; How shall we stand with stained hands, and worship at His shrine? From Verdun 's hero-hallowed heights to Belgium's sea-swept dunes, The land with shell-ripped bosom, lifts His temples, heaped in ruins. What gory harvests here are reaped, of human esh and bone, Christ, in thy Christmas time, forgive! Who shall for these atone? The Serbian hills lie bleak and bare, their people ed or slain; And through the' Iron Gate the storm sweeps the Wallachian plain; And twice ten thousand thundering guns hurl forth their screaming shells Till Europe seems a place accurst with all its aming hells. About the Publisher Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.