A. D. Nineteen Hundred

War and Disaster, Famine and Pestilence,
  Vaunt-couriers of the Century that comes,
  Behold them shaking their tremendous plumes
  Above the world! where all the air grows dense
  With rumors of destruction and a sense,
  Cadaverous, of corpses and of tombs
  Predestined; while,--like monsters in the glooms,--
  Bristling with battle, shadowy and immense,
  The Nations rise in wild apocalypse.--
  Where now the boast Earth makes of civilization?
  Its brag of Christianity?--In vain
  We seek to see them in the dread eclipse
  Of hell and horror, all the devastation
  Of Death triumphant on his hills of slain.