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Title: A Game Of Chess
Author: Herbert Edward Palmer [
More Titles by Palmer]
We ranged the chessmen on the chequered deal.
And then I said, "To make the game more real
We'll play the Great War. I'll be Germany;
For you, I guess, the Goth would never be."
And thus it came that I chose black--he, white.
He on Truth's side; I clothed myself with night.
And, crying for a sign unto the Lord,
We cramped all Europe in a foot-square board.
We were two Causes--I, who did detest
That Wrong should triumph, though it were in jest,
Played with soul-sinews cracking, played with zest;
And, every heart-cell beating battle's drum,
I struck with Queen and pawns for Belgium.
I've never played as on that fateful night,
I fairly lost my temper in the fight,
Queens left their thrones; pawns, castles strewed the table,
There never were two causes so unstable.
And then when he'd six pieces, and I eight,
Half of them pawns, he pulled the noose of fate;
And with a knight, a castle--unawares,--
A bishop in a corner breathing prayers,
He caught me tripping. "Checkmate! Smashed!" he said,
And like a beaten Hun I stole to bed.
[The end]
Herbert Edward Palmer's poem: Game Of Chess
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