Part 3 (2/2)
Then there was time for thinking--O time enough to spare, And there was time for cursing and time enough for pray'r,-- Time,--time for retrospection, and time enough to die, Time, time for life's great tragedy--and time to reason why.
That was the greatest battle that ever yet was fought; That was the greatest picture on any canvas wrought; That was the greatest lesson that mortal man can teach; That was the greatest sermon that priests of earth can preach.
Yet no one fought that battle with saber or with gun, And no one saw that picture, save those brave hearts alone, And no one read that lesson there written in the dark, And no one heard that sermon that went straight to its mark.
Nor shall we know their story, the saddest of the sea, Or shall we learn the sequel, the sorrow yet to be, But long shall we remember how brave men bravely died For some poor, lowly woman with a baby at her side.
And when the world gets scorning the greatest of the great, When poverty sits cursing the man of large estate, O then let men remember, how, in that awful hour, The wealth of all the world was powerless in its power.
WAR AND PEACE.
War is h.e.l.l!--war is h.e.l.l!-- This is what the war-men yell Yet they love to be in h.e.l.l, Love to hear the iron hail Strike, till even strong men quail; Love the dying soldier's knell, Ringing shot and shrieking sh.e.l.l, Love to hear the battle-cry, Love to see men fight and die With the struggle in their eye-- War is h.e.l.l--war is h.e.l.l,-- This is what the war-men yell.
War is wrong--war is wrong; This the burden of my song: War is wrong--war is wrong-- Sound the pean, human tongue; Let the message far be flung-- Sound it, sound it heaven-high, Sound it to the starry sky, And Heaven, repeat the echoing, Till all the earth of peace shall sing.
Peace loves day, but war loves night; Peace loves calmness, war--to fight In the wrong or in the right; Peace the hungry man gives bread, War would give a stone instead; Peace is honest--not so war, Crying--any way is fair; Peace loves life--War loves the dead With a halo overhead; Peace pleads justice--War cries might In the wrong or in the right; Peace pleads--love your fellow-man, War cries--kill him if you can; Peace no evil thing would slight, Yet while daring dares not fight, Knowing might makes nothing right; Peace means liberty and life, War means enmity and strife; Peace means plenty, peace means power, War means--h.e.l.l, and would devour All who do not trust its power; Peace means joy and love tomorrow, War means hatred, death and sorrow; Peace says--Bless you--men are brothers, War says--d.a.m.n you, and all others.
War is h.e.l.l, war is h.e.l.l!-- This is what the war-men yell; War is wrong, war is wrong-- This the burden of my song; War is wrong, war is wrong, There never was a just one, Never; There never was a just one, Never.
True as two from two leaves none, True as days are never done, True as rivers downward run, True as heaven holds the sun,-- War is wrong, war is wrong, There never was a just one, Never; There never was a just one, Never-- Sound the message, human tongue, Sound it, sound it heaven-high, Sound it to the starry sky, And Heaven, repeat the echoing Till all the earth of peace shall sing.
PEACE AND WAR.
Blest is that man who first cries peace, But curst is he who first cries war, For war is murder. It must cease Forever and from everywhere.
TO ANDREW CARNEGIE.
Philanthropist, far-sighted millionaire, Lover of prose and friend of poetry, What needs my pen in furtherance declare Thou art also a friend of liberty,-- Thou art, indeed, a very Prince of Peace, Who, conscious of the uselessness of war, Believest man's red carnage soon should cease, And nations now for n.o.bler things prepare: What needs my pen in furtherance recite Thy kindly interest in the weal of man-- Yet, lacking need, I nothing lose to write, But rather gain in praising as I can, For, if thy wealth the world sweet peace may give, Perhaps my lines in praise of peace may live.
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