When like an evil dream this thing shall fade
    And your unspeakable atrocious crime
    Shall find oblivion in the floods of time,
One name shall still find memory has repaid
In more than full the debt upon it laid
    —The debt of Europe’s loathing. Prison lime
    Eats up the murderer’s body, prose and rhyme
Shall keep embalmed the butcheries you made.

For you rained bullets on defenceless folk
    And swore those bullets had been rained on
            you,
        So gave to flames and loot a helpless town,
All customary laws of war you broke,
        Outraged our woman, shot civilians down,
    And only left us bitter ash to rue.

(The European War 1914-1915 Poems, p. 45)