The Prophecy

There's a voice on the wind of the world
speaking dreams from the ancient books:
they shall beat their swords into plowshares,
and their spears into pruninghooks.

Have you heard the voice in the darkness,
coming up from the foggy past?
Do you hear, you winged warriors,
over the cyclonic blast
of motors, and the shriek of the bombs as
     they fall?
Did you hear it, you beautiful sons,
you dead of Caen and Tarawa,
as you fell in the flash of the guns?

You can hear it, earth, you can hear it
in the crackle of cities that burn,
in the lancing cry of the children,
in the silence of those who will never return.

There's a voice on the wind of the world,
beating loud on the uttermost shore:
nation shall not lift up sword against nation,
neither shall they learn war any more.

There's a voice on the wind of the world,
the voice long-crushed.
Woe to the waters, the dust and the cloud,
if the voice be hushed!

--Lon Woodrum

O God Of Field And City

O God of field and city,
  O Lord of shore and sea,
Behold us in Thy pity
  Lift naked hands to Thee.
Our swords and spears are shattered,
  Our walls of stone down-thrust,
Our reeking altars scattered
  And trodden in the dust.

O God of law unbroken,
  O Lord of justice done,
Thine awful word is spoken
  From sun to flaming sun:
We hate and we are hated,
  We slay, and lo, are slain;
We feed and still unsated
  We hunt our prey again.

O God of mercy tender,
  O Lord of love most free,
Forgive as we surrender
  Our wayward wills to Thee.
Absolve our fell allegiance
  To captain and to king;
Receive in full obedience
  The chastened hearts we bring.

--John Haynes Holmes

Prayer For Peace

O God, whose will is life and peace
  For all the sons of men,
Let not our human hates release
  The sword's dread power again.
Forgive our narrowness of mind;
  Destroy false pride, we plead:
Deliver us and all mankind
  From selfishness and greed.

O God, whose ways shall lead to peace,
  Enlighten us, we pray;
Dispel our darkness and increase
  The light along our way.
Illumine those who lead the lands
  That they may make at length
The laws of right to guide the hands
  That wield the nations' strength.

O God, who callest us to peace,
  We join with everyone
Who does his part that wars may cease
  And justice may be done.
Enable us to take the way
  The Prince of Peace hath trod;
Create the will to build each day
  The family of God.

--Rolland W. Schloerb

In Flanders Now

  Written at the close of World War I, in answer to
Colonel McCrae's well-known poem. "In Flanders
Now" was used at the unveiling of the tomb of the
Unknown Soldier in Washington. Printed on a card
with the Belgium National Anthem and sold by the
Federation of Women's Clubs, a million dollars were
raised and used for the restoration of the Louvain
Library. As we read the poem now in the aftermath
of another world war, it awakens many conflicting
emotions that search our hearts.

We have kept faith, ye Flanders' dead,
  Sleep well beneath those poppies red
That mark your place.
The torch your dying hands did throw,
  We've held it high before the foe,
And answered bitter blow for blow,
  In Flanders fields.

And where your heroes' blood was spilled,
  The guns are now forever stilled
And silent grown.
There is no moaning of the slain,
  There is no cry of tortured pain,
And blood will never flow again,
  In Flanders fields.

Forever holy in our sight
  Shall be those crosses gleaming white,
That guard your sleep.
  Rest you in peace, the task is done,
The fight you left us we have won,
  And Peace on Earth has just begun,
  In Flanders now.

--Edna Jaques

Work; [van Dyke]

Let me but do my work from day to day
  In field or forest, at the desk or loom,
  In roaring market-place or tranquil room;
Let me but find it in my heart to say,
When vagrant wishes beckon me astray,
  "This is my work; my blessing, not my doom;
  Of all who live, I am the one by whom
This work can best be done in the right way."

Then shall I see it not too great, nor small,
  To suit my spirit and to prove my powers;
  Then shall I cheerful greet the labouring hours,
And cheerful turn, when the long shadows fall
At eventide, to play and love and rest,
Because I know for me my work is best.

--Henry van Dyke; 1852-1933

The Ship of State

Thou, too, sail on, O Ship of State!
Sail on, O Union! strong and great!
Humanity with all its fears,
With all the hopes of future years,
Is hanging breathless on thy fate!
We know what Master laid thy keel,
What Workmen wrought thy ribs of steel,
Who made each mast, and sail, and rope,
What anvils rang, what hammers beat,
In what a forge and what a heat
Were shaped the anchors of thy hope!
Fear not each sudden sound and shock,
'Tis of the wave, and not the rock;
'Tis but the flapping of the sail,
And not a rent made by the gale!
In spite of rock and tempest's roar,
In spite of false lights on the shore,
Sail on, nor fear to breast the sea!
Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee,
Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears,
Our faith, triumphant o'er our fears,
Are all with thee,--are all with thee!

--Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, 1807-1882

Our Country

To all who hope for Freedom's gleam
  Across the warring years,
Who offer life to build a dream
  In laughter or in tears,
To all who toil, unmarked, unknown,
  By city, field or sea,
I give my heart, I reach my hand,
A common hope, a common land
  Is made of you and me.

For we have loved her summer dawns
  Beyond the misty hill,
And we have shared her toil, her fruit
  Of farm and shop and mill.
Our weaknesses have made her shame,
  Our strength has built her powers,
And we have hoped and we have striven
That to her children might be given
  A fairer world than ours.

We dreamed to hold her safe, apart
  From strife; the dream was vain.
Her heart is now earth's bleeding heart,
  She shares the whole earth's pain.
To men oppressed in all the lands
  One flashing hope has gone,
One vision wide as earth appears,
We seek, across the warring years,
  The gray world's golden dawn.

--Anna Louise Strong