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Sonnet 11

 Apart sweet women (for whom Heaven be blessed), 
Comrades, you cannot think how thin and blue 
Look the leftovers of mankind that rest, 
Now that the cream has been skimmed off in you.
War has its horrors, but has this of good -- That its sure processes sort out and bind Brave hearts in one intrepid brotherhood And leave the shams and imbeciles behind.
Now turn we joyful to the great attacks, Not only that we face in a fair field Our valiant foe and all his deadly tools, But also that we turn disdainful backs On that poor world we scorn yet die to shield -- That world of cowards, hypocrites, and fools.

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