When the slain in myriad numbers,
Filled the “furrows” in “God’s Acre.”
When the “seed” of Death’s “rude plowshare”
Yielded bounteous “human harvests.”
Each forgot the sacred lesson,
Thou art still thy brother’s keeper;
Each essayed in vain to smother
In the ground the cries of bloodshed.
Family feuds are wounds that fester,
Home dissensions breed sore anguish,