Anna M. Whitney: The Call for Peace

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Anti-war essays, poems, short stories and literary excerpts
American writers on peace and against war
Women writers on peace and war
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Anna M. Whitney
The Call for Peace
The Muscovite has heard it ringing clear
Above the din of nations and of fear;
“Behold! the Eternal Right
Is no more the slave of Might.
And the earth shall find relief
In my Peace!”
The cosmic forces rent the world in twain,
When the Immortal Spring gushed forth on Bethlehem’s plain.
But along its silver stream
The tented armies gleam,
And the flood of life is red
With their dead.
Through darkest plains of heathenness it glides,
In medieval fastnesses it bides;
Like Arethusa’s fount
To the light of day shall mount.
When the cruel hearts of men
Turn again.
The thought of man is sickened with the insensate past,
And the dawn is brightening with a glory that shall last,
For the vision of night
Shall at last be read aright,
And love shall conquer loss
By the cross.
No more the warrior clutching at his foes,
Reeking with hate into the Presence goes.
Many deaths there be to die,
Worst of all to vilify
Love of Fatherland
By a murdering hand.
Vain to worship under cross and dome
Unless mankind be brothers in one home;
The universe a folding wing
To guard the helpless and to fling
A note of hope and might
Into the night.
O blessed are the feet of them that bring
Good tidings of the coming joy, that sing
The sheathing of the deadly sword,
The tranquil empire of the Lord,
The Peace he, leaving gives,
And giving, leaves.

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