Be this the prayer of all the sons of light,
"That war shall be no more": for wisdom rules
Omnipotent in earth as in the height
Of heaven supreme: the learning of the schools
With Him is foolishness, the cult of fools,
Its practice is deceit, engend'ring strife,
Its fruit a fury forging murd'rous tools
To slay His children, as with slaughterer's knife,
Though God Himself upholds the eternity of life.
"Thou shalt not kill;" What answer have the ages?
The cry of murdered multitudes: the crime,
The tragedy of history's awful pages:
The blood-stained footprints on the sands of time;
See how the forges flare from morning prime
Till morn in tears return; for far and near
Illumined is the midnight arc sublime:
They shape more mail-girt ships, more warrior gear,
And vie with friends or foes,—more fatuous year by year.
O arbiter of fate! to Thee belong
The seals of judgment, and the issues stand
Waiting Thy word: nor battle to the strong,
Nor race is to the swift, but in Thine hand
Of all things is the outcome. Wise and grand
Is Thy supreme discernment: may we prove
'Tis Thy desire, 'tis Thy divine demand,
Men shall not die in hate, but live in Love,
And peace on earth shall be, as in Thy heaven above.
