We women teach our little sons how wrong br And how ignoble blows are; school and church br Support our precepts and inoculate br The growing minds with thoughts of love and peace. br ‘Let dogs delight to bark and bite, ’ we say; br But human beings with immortal souls br Must rise above the methods of the brute br And walk with reason and with self-control. br br And then – dear God! you men, you wise, strong men, br Our self-announced superiors in brain, br Our peers in judgement, you go forth to war! br You leap at one another, mutilate br And starve and kill your fellow men, and ask br The world’s applause for such heroic deeds. br You boast and strut; and if no song is sung, br No laudatory epic writ in blood, br Telling how many widows you have made, br Why then, penforce, you say our bards are dead br And inspiration sleeps to wake no more. br And we, the women, we whose lives you are – br What can we do but sit in silent homes br And wait and suffer? Not for us the blare br Of trumpets and the bugle’s call to arms – br For us no waving banners, no supreme, br Triumphant hour of conquest. Ours the slow br Dread torture of uncertainty, each day br The bootless battle with the same despair. br And when at best your victories reach our ears, br There reaches with them to our pitying hearts br The thought of countless homes made desolate br And other women weeping for their dead. br br O men, wise men, superior beings, say, br Is there no substitute for war in this br Great age and ere? If you answer ‘No’ br Then let us rear our children to be wolves br And teach them from the cradle how to kill.