Despite all lessons of the great war, it now seems inevitable that Italy will make war on Abyssinia in the hope of reaping some advantage from victory.
In the olive groves of Italy Men minds are all aflame; For the war-lust spreads thro' Italy, Where war-lords call the game. And they dream of Roman legions And the glory that was Rome's; Yet reck not of the misery That stalks Italian homes. By the vine-clad hills of Italy Men talk and dream of war; Of the triumphs that were Caesar's, And the glories known of yore. But a mockery of triumph, And an end to dreaming vain Comes to victor, as to vanquichsed, With a counting of the slain. Oh, the women-folk of Italy, They give their sons to Mars; For they would be Spartan mothers, Dams of splendid avitars. But the fever shall be ending In numb grief and shuddering fears, When the spurious pearls of victory Dissolve in women's tears. In the pleasant land of Italy The fever runs apace, And the man who would be Caesar From war's lesson turns his face. With dreams of olden Empire Would he set men's minds aflame, Nor count the cost to Italy In agony and shame.
|Copyright © Perry Middlemiss 2005|