I was in Warsaw when the first bomb fell;
    I was in Warsaw when the Terror came.
    Havoc and horror, famine, fear and flame,
    Blasting from loveliness a living hell.
    Barring the station towered a sentinel;
    Trainward I battled, blind escape my aim.
    ENGLAND! I cried. He kindled at the name:
    With lion-leap he haled me. . . . All was well.

    ENGLAND! they cried for aid, and cried in vain.
    Vain was their valour, emptily they cried.
    Bleeding, they saw their Cry crucified. . . .
    O splendid soldier, by the last lone train,
    To-day would you flame forth to fray me place?
    Or, would you curse and spit into my face?