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Poem	I was in Warsaw when the first bomb fell; I was in Warsaw when the Terror came - Havoc and horror, famine, fear and flame, Blasting from loveliness a living hell. Barring the station towered a sentinel; Trainward I battled, blind escape my aim. ENGLAND! I cried. He kindled at the name: With lion-leap he haled me. . . . All was well. ENGLAND! they cried for aid, and cried in vain. Vain was their valour, emptily they cried. Bleeding, they saw their Cry crucified. . . . O splendid soldier, by the last lone train, To-day would you flame forth to fray me place? Or - would you curse and spit into my face? September, 1939
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