CHAPTER II.

Again I turned to the southward, thrilled by the glorious sight Of vast battle lines advancing all beautiful and bright; With flashing steel, like countless stars, bannered, bedight they come, Great waves of scarlet, blue and gold, fearlessly rolling on, Preceded by a reconnaissance of cavalry and balloons, With deadly explosives to hurl by hot platoons. Five million men advancing in the panoply of war, With Albion in the centre; and prolonging the right afar Are the Italians and Austrians facing the Moslem bands, The followers of the crescent from far Orient lands. Deployed to the left are the Germans, a stately array, Once more to grapple their ancient foes, defiantly at bay.

Seven leagues! seven leagues! an awful front Albion and her allies form! Five battle lines advancing in parallel, Fronting the dire impending storm, With vast masses of brilliant cavalry At intervals on each wing, And supporting divisions in reserve, They half a million sabres bring. Intermingling are three thousand quick-fire guns, And destructive and strange machines-- Cunning devices for the attack and defence-- Under cover of light steel screens. And covering the front are bicycle corps, And steel-armoured motor cars; Swift and frightfully deadly, well befitting The grand intrepid sons of Mars.

As a very god of vast war sits Wolseley On his charger, unmoved, serene, In rear of the centre, with a brilliant staff, Intrusted with the command supreme. And the stern Germans are with their great war lord, The Kaiser, eager for the fray; Believing the God of all battles will win Them this last great decisive day. And the Austrians and dauntless Italians Passionate enthusiasm bring, And are grandly, unflinchingly coming on Under Emperor and King.

Oh, the dread majesty of that gigantic, Glorious panoply of war! Advancing with the awesome roar of the sea When its deep wrath is heard afar; Advancing upon the giant adversary To the swift help of the Lord. To put the proud, inveterate followers Of Satan to the pending sword; To free the benighted world from tyranny, And the hard yoke and scourge of sin, They roll on, and onward, fearing neither death Nor hell, all eager to begin.

Now pauses the colossal, mighty advance, When near to the gigantic foe, Ere hurling a destroying and vast attack, Ere delivering the first great blow. To perfect his wonderful dispositions Wolseley, with lightning speed, Distributes his detail of final orders By wire, ’cycle, and fiery steed.

The engineers along the intrepid lines Throw up works of shelter and defence; And wires and ’phones to every abiding corps Waiting the issue grim, intense.

It was an awful and a trying moment. Should heaven now, or hell, prevail? I feared as the masterful Christian hosts Prepared the foe to assail.