From the New York Tribune, May 28, 1915.
Like countless other neutral guys,
I’m pretty strong for the Allies.
My brother joins the other faction
And justifies each German action.
We argued. Soon, with sneer and shout,
We wildly waved our arms about,
And heated phrases catapulted,
Till each the other had insulted.
Our quarrel didn’t end the strife,
Nor saved a single soldier’s life;
Our acid, violent verbosity
Annulled no single small atrocity.
The sufferings of the maimed and torn,
For all our talk, must still be borne;
Our most excited declarations
Deterred no whit the warring nations.
For all we raged—nay, almost fought—
This change is all our wrangle wrought:
The love each cherished for his brother
Is gone, and now we hate each other.