Judge, 1918-03-16 · page 3 of 38
Judge — March 16, 1918 — page 3: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains a serious poem rather than satirical content. "Whom the Gods Love," by Amelia Rives (Princess Troubetzkoy), is a World War I elegy mourning young soldiers who died in combat. The poem's title references the classical maxim "whom the gods love die young." The work celebrates fallen soldiers as England's "flower," arguing they achieved noble escape through death—freed from life's suffering and gaining immortality through sacrifice. The repeated final line "Whom the Gods love die young!—die young!—die young!" emphasizes this romantic idealization of youthful military death. Rather than satire, this represents Judge magazine's patriotic wartime content, offering consolatory rhetoric about sacrifice and honor to readers grieving the war's casualties. The accompanying angelic illustration reinforces this solemn, commemorative tone.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
WHOM THE GODS LOVE “The Flower of England Perished in This War” By Amelie Rives (Princess Troubetzkoy) I HALL we then downcast fare with mournful eyes, Wear veils of Cyprus, swathe ourselves in black, Because those high-hearted Venturers came not back ‘To homely solace, from their great emprise? Shall we, made small by sorrow, send regret To dog their radiant course, who now are sped On errands of immortality and fled Beyond our finitude of toil and fret? Shall we not rather, knowing them so far From all that racks us—safe from grief and time’s Intolerable familiarities With the shuddering flesh and spirjt—like a star Of gladness set their memory that sublimes All sorrow, in our night of agonies. II For could they choose, be sure they’d not return! Nor love, nor fame could lure them who have known The ravishment of the spirit gladly blown By winds of perilous purpose to the bourne Of wild, exultant, ultimate escape, From beggaring Life, and Death’s largesse have taken, In glory of youth, in splendour of wills unshaken, These rode down time and left Old Age a-gape. Think you they would come back, they who have wrung The honey and gall from life in one great hour? Who have been given the Freedom of God’s City? Triumphant be their dirge who were the flower Of mourning England—Shame them not with pity. Whom the Gods love die young!—die vous eaie young! comichooks.couy)