New wreckage of the shrines we made
      Thro’ centuries of forgotten tears ... 
    We knew not where their scorn had laid
      Our Master.  Twice a thousand years
    Had dulled the uncapricious Sun. 
    Manifold worlds obscured the One;

    Obscured the reign of Law, our stay,
      Our compass through this darking sea,
    The one sure light, the one sure way,
      The one firm base of Liberty: 
    The one firm road that men have trod
    Through Chaos to the Throne of God.

    Choose ye, a hundred legions cried,
      Dishonor or the instant sword! 
    Ye chose.  Ye met that blood-stained tide. 
      A little kingdom kept its word;
    And, dying, cried across the night,
    Hear us, O earth, we chose the Right!

    Whose is the victory?  Though ye stood
      Alone against the unmeasured foe;
    By all the tears, by all the blood
      That flowed, and have not ceased to flow;
    By all the legions that ye hurled: 
    Back, thro’ the thunder-shaken world;

    By the old that have not where to rest,
      By the lands laid waste and hearths defiled;
    By every lacerated breast,
      And every mutilated child,
    Whose is the victory?  Answer ye,
    Who, dying, smiled at tyranny?

    Under the sky’s triumphal arch
      The glories of the dawn begin. 
    Our dead, our shadowy armies march
      E’en now, in silence, through Berlin;
    Dumb shadows, tattered, blood-stained ghosts
    But cast by what swift following hosts?

    And answer, England!  At thy side,
      Thro’ seas of blood, thro’ mists of tears,
    Thou that for Liberty hast died
      And livest, to the end of years! 
    And answer, Earth!  Far off, I hear
    The peans of a happier sphere: 

    The trumpet blown at Marathon
      Resounded over earth and sea,
    But burning angel lips have blown
      The trumpets of thy Liberty;
    For who, beside thy dead, could deem
    The faith, for which they died, a dream?

    Earth has not been the same since then. 
      Europe from thee received a soul,
    Whence nations moved in law, like men,
      As members of a mightier whole,
    Till wars were ended....  In that day,
    So shall our children’s children say.

Germany Will End the War

Only When a Peace Treaty Shall Assure Her Power

By Maximilian Harden

Maximilian Harden, who in the following article sets forth the ends which Germany is striving to accomplish in the war, is the George Bernard Shaw of Germany.  He is considered the leading German editor and an expert in Germany on foreign politics.  As editor and proprietor of Die Zukunft, his fiery, brooding spirit and keen insight and wit, coupled with powers of