The poem
Wars have been and wars will be Till the human race is run; Battles red by land and sea, Never peace beneath the sun. I am old and little care; I'll be cold, my lips be dumb: Brother mine, beware, beware . . . Evil looms the wrath to come.
Eastern skies are dark with strife, Western lands are stark with fear; Rumours of world-war are rife, Armageddon draweth near. If your carcase you would save, Hear, oh hear, the dreadful drum! Fly to forest, cower in cave . . . Brother, heed the wrath to come!
Brother, you were born too late; Human life is but a breath. Men delve deep, where darkly wait Sinister the seeds of death, There's no moment to delay; Sorrowing the stars are blind. Little Brother, how I pray You may sanctuary find. Peoples of the world succumb . . . Fly, poor fools, the WRATH TO COME!