The Destruction of St Anthony

The American came down like a wolf on the fold
With Tony in tow, for the petrol and gold;
And the shock and the awe were most charming to see,
And the money rolled in, just as smooth as could be.

Then Tony went off to start keeping the peace
And finding new flocks he could lecture and fleece,
While the wails of the widows were lost in the spin
Of his fine godly yap, and his sanctified grin.

"Be not pessimistic, for decency's sake!
Look not at the trouble that came in our wake!
Peace, freedom, democracy, brought here right fast;
Let Clio herself be my judge at the last!"

The pious crusaders found rich pastures new,
And boasted their bombings; indeed, it is true,
It happens at times that a troublesome nation
May find Roman peace in a good devastation.

But those who claim judgement by History's light
Or God's, are most prone to obscure and re-write;
And so from the ruins arose a mad horde
Whose notion of God was a little bit flawed.

Like Tony and chums, they did well at their killing,
Although their exploits were not nearly so thrilling;
And, subject unto most irrational fits,
They came upon Clio, and blew her to bits.

Alas for poor Tony, and all he has wrought!
Where judge has been murdered, the verdict is nought;
And, whether his doings were naughty or nice,
The verdict of Justice may have to suffice.

Nimrod Fitzbyron