< Page:Poems of the Great War - Cunliffe.djvu
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154 JOYCE KILMER
" My wrong cries out for vengeance,
The blow that sent me here Was aimed in Hell. My dying scream
Has reached Jehovah's ear. Not all the seven oceans
Shall wash away the stain ; Upon a brow that wears a crown
I am the brand of Cain."
When God's great voice assembles
The fleet on Judgment Day, The ghosts of ruined ships will rise
In sea and strait and bay. Though they have lain for ages
Beneath the changeless flood, They shall be white as silver.
But one — shall be like blood.
— Joyce Kilmer.
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