"I am but one," The other answered with reluctant tongue. "_Thou art_ THE _one and so I come to thee. For Peace or War the scales are in thy hand. As thou decidest now, so shall it be. But,--as thou sayest now, so be it With thee--then. Shall it be Peace or War? Nay--look_!--" And at the word--where stood the wall--a space; And at their feet, like mighty map unrolled,-- The kingdoms of the earth, and every kingdom Groaned with the burden of its armour-plate. And the weight grew till man was crushed beneath, And lost his manhood and became a cog To roll along the great machine of war. And, as he watched, the War-Lord's eyes flamed fire, His nostrils panted like a mettled steed's. This was the game of games he knew and loved, And every fibre of his soul was knit To see what passed. Then,--in a sun-white land, Where a great sea poured out through narrow gates To meet a greater,--came the clang of arms, And drew the nations like a tocsin peal, Till all the sun-white sands ran red, and earth Sweat blood, and writhed in fiery ashes, and Grew sick with all the reek and stench of war, And heaven drew back behind the battle-clouds. And ever, through the clamour of the strife, I heard the ceaseless wailing of a child, And the sobbing, sobbing, sobbing, endless Sobbing of a reft and broken woman;-- And the hoarse whisper of the War-Lord's voice,-- "Britain fights once again for Barbary Lest others occupy to her undoing. And Italy and Greece and Turkey join, To beat back France and Spain." Again I saw,-- Where legions marched and wound 'mid snowy peaks, And came upon a smiling vine-clad land, And filled it with the reek and stench of war. The hoarse voice spoke,-- "The provinces she stole And lost, Austria takes back." Again I saw,-- Where white-capped hosts crept swiftly to the straits Twixt old and new, and drenched the land with blood, And filled it with the reek and stench of war. The War-Lord spoke,-- "Despite his love of peace, Our brother of the North has seized his chance, And got his heart's desire." Again I saw,-- Where legions poured through the eternal snows, And legions swept o'er every sea to meet Their long-expected onslaught, and the dead Were piled in mountains, and the snows ran red. The War-Lord spoke,-- "Up, Britain, up! Strike home! Or drop your rod of Empire in the dust-- One of you dies this day." Again I saw,-- Beneath us, legions swarming to the West, Devouring kingdoms till they reached the sea, And filling all the lands with blood and fire. The War-Lord gazed, with eyes that blazed and flamed, And panted like a soul in torment,--"Mine! All these are mine!" "_Thine, sayest thou?--Thine now, When thou shalt stand before me--then, I shall require them of thee_." --Thus the voice Of Him who sat and gazed with sorrowing face, While all the earth beneath us reeked of war,