Chapter 1 No.1

The Dominant Voice, shrieking:

Rancor unspeakable, white-hot wrath

Spring in your furrow, rise in your path!

Harvest you vengeance from Belgian dust,

Ye who have turnèd love unto lust!

Subdominant Voices, murmuring:

Month of Mary, may ye breed

Vengers out of the August seed!

Nourish'd hate of father-foe-

Grow, ye War-babes, grow, grow!