State Library of NSW
[Page 153]
You can see the glowing missiles with their messages of deathAs they rocket-like illume the earth belowThen as some poor devil's carried by you clench your teeth & cry "Great God when will it be my turn to go"
Then with bloody fury maddened, o'er the parapet you leap Blind to all but that poor creature's stony gaze And you strike, but that were madness let the awful memory sleep And behold another curtain I will raise
You see the rows of snowy beds where haggard weary forms
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