The Young Dead Soldiers

The young dead soldiers do not speak.
Nevertheless they are heard in the still
     houses.
(Who has not heard them?)

They have a silence that speaks for them at
      night
And when the clock counts.

They say,
We were young. We have died. Remember us.

They say,
We have done what we could
But until it is finished it is not done.

They say,
We have given our lives
But until it is finished no one can know what
     our lives gave.

They say,
Our deaths are not ours,
They are yours,
They will mean what you make them.

They say,
Whether our lives and our deaths were for
     peace and a new hope
Or for nothing
We cannot say.
It is you who must say this.

They say,
We leave you our deaths,
Give them their meaning,
Give them an end to the war and a true peace,
Give them a victory that ends the war and
     a peace afterwards,
Give them their meaning.

We were young, they say,
We have died.
Remember us.

--Archibald MacLeish

Faith of Our Fathers

Happy Father's Day to all you dads out there, and to
our fathers who have gone on before...


Faith of our fathers! living still In spite of dungeon,
fire and sword: O how our hearts beat high with joy
Whene'er we hear that glorious word!

Faith of our fathers, holy faith! We will be true to thee
till death!

Our fathers, chained in prisons dark, Were still in heart
and conscience free: How sweet would be their children's
fate, If they like them could die for thee!

Faith of our fathers, holy faith! We will be true to thee
till death!

Faith of our fathers! we will strive To win all nations
unto thee, And thro' the truth that comes from God,
Mankind shall then be truly free.

Faith of our fathers, holy faith! We will be true to thee
till death!

Faith of our fathers! we will love Both friend and foe in
all our strife: And preach thee too as love knows how,
By kindly words and virtuous life:

Faith of our fathers, holy faith! We will be true to thee
till death!

--Frederick W. Faber

Create Great Peace

Would you end war?
Create great Peace. . . .
The peace that demands all of a man,
His love, his life, his veriest self;
Plunge him into the smelting fires of a work that becomes his child. . . .

Give him a hard Peace: a Peace of discipline and justice . . .
Kindle him with vision, invite him to joy and adventure:
Set him to work, not to create things
But to create men:
Yea, himself.

Go search your heart, America. . . .
Turn from the machine to man,
Build, while there is yet time, a creative Peace . . .
While there is yet time! . . .
For if you reject great Peace,
As surely as vile living brings disease,
So surely will your selfishness bring war.

--James Oppenheim, 1882-1932

A Hymn of Peace

The Son of God goes forth for Peace,
Our Father's love to show;
From war and woe He brings release,
O, who with Him will go?
He strikes the fetters from the slave,
Man's mind and heart makes free;
And sends His messengers to save
O'er every land and sea!

The Son of God goes forth for Peace,
That men like brothers live,
And all desire the other's good,
And other's sin forgive.
He turns our spears to pruning hooks,
Our swords to ploughshares warm,
And war no more its death-blast brings,
Nor men their brothers harm!

The Son of God goes forth for Peace,
Nor lands nor pow'r to gain;
He seeks to serve, to love, to lift,--
Who follows in His train?
A glorious band, in every age.
In spite of scorn and pain,
True sons of God, His peace have made;
Who follows in their train?

Now let the world to Peace be won,
And every hatred slain;
Let force and greed be overcome
And love supreme remain!
Let justice rule in all the earth,
And mercy while we live,
Lest we--forgiven much--forget
Our brother to forgive!

We send our love to every land--
True neighbors would we be;
And pray God's Peace to reign in them,
Where'er their homeland be!
O God, to us may grace be given,
Who bear the dear Christ's name,
To live at peace with every man,
And thus our Christ acclaim!

--Ernest Bourner Allen

The Prince of Peace

The Prince of Peace His banner spreads,
His wayward folk to lead
From war's embattled hates and dreads,
Its bulwarked ire and greed.
O marshal us, the sons of sires
Who braved the cannon's roar,
To venture all that peace requires
As they dared death for war.

Lead on, O Christ! That haunting song
No centuries can dim,
Which long ago the heavenly throng
Sang over Bethlehem.
Cast down our rancor, fear, and pride,
Exalt goodwill again!
Our worship doth Thy name deride,
Bring we not peace to men.

Thy pardon, Lord, for war's dark shame,
Its death-strewn, bloody fields!
Yet thanks to Thee for souls aflame
Who dared with swords and shields;
O Christ, who died to give men life,
Bring that victorious hour,
When man shall use for peace, not strife,
His valor, skill, and power.

Cleanse all our hearts from our disgrace--
We love not world, but clan!
Make clear our eyes to see our race
One family of man.
Rend Thou our little temple veils
That cloak the truth divine,
Until Thy mighty word prevails,
That cries, "All souls are mine."

--Harry Emerson Fosdick

Let Us Have Peace

The earth is weary of our foolish wars.
Her hills and shores were shaped for lovely
       things,
Yet all our years are spent in bickerings
   Beneath the astonished stars.

April by April laden with beauty comes,
Autumn by Autumn turns our toil to gain,
But hand at sword hilt, still we start and
      strain
   To catch the beat of drums.

Knowledge to knowledge adding, skill to skill,
We strive for others' good as for our own--
And then, like cavemen snarling with a bone,
    We turn and rend and kill. . . . .

With life so fair, and all too short a lease
Upon our special star! Nay, love and trust,
Not blood and thunder shall redeem our dust.
     Let us have peace!

--Nancy Byrd Turner

The Dawn of Peace

Yes--"on our brows we feel the breath
  Of dawn," though in the night we wait!
An arrow is in the heart of Death,
  A God is at the doors of Fate!
The Spirit that moved upon the Deep
  Is moving through the minds of men:
The nations feel it in their sleep,
  A change has touched their dreams again.

Dreams are they? But ye cannot stay them,
  Or thrust the dawn back for one hour!
Truth, Love, and Justice, if ye slay them,
  Return with more than earthly power:
Strive, if ye will, to seal the fountains
  That send the Spring thro' leaf and spray:
Drive back the sun from the Eastern
    mountains,
  Then--bid this mightier movement stay.

It is the Dawn! The Dawn! The nations
  From East to West have heard a cry,--
Though all earth's blood-red generations
  By hate and slaughter climbed thus high,
Here--on this height--still to aspire,
  One only path remains untrod,
One path of love and peace climbs higher.
  Make straight that highway for our God.

--Alfred Noyes