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__[|Imperial War Museum]__ **
 * Gassed by John Singer Sargent, Imperial War Museum [[image:800px-Gassed.jpg.jpeg height="270"]][[image:jl_1.png width="137" height="170"]] -

While on his slaughter'd troops your tribes are fed, You cleanse his camp and carry off his dead. Imperial Scavenger! but now you know Your work is vain amid these hills of snow. His tentless troops are marbled thro with frost And change to crystal when the breath is lost. Mere trunks of ice, tho limb'd like human frames And lately warm'd with life's endearing flames, They cannot taint the air, the world impest, Nor can you tear one fiber from their breast. No! from their visual sockets, as they lie, With beak and claws you cannot pluck an eye. The frozen orb, preserving still its form, Defies your talons as it braves the storm, But stands and stares to God, as if to know In what curst hands he leaves his world below.
 * - excerpt from** // **Advice to a Raven in Russia** //  **by Joel Barlow**

"War" by Edwin Starr media type="youtube" key="P7kHWEGtRgA" height="364" width="445"

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