Thank God for Peace!
No matter now the rights and wrongs of it;
You fought us bravely, and we fought you fair.
The fight is done. Grip hands! No malice bear!
We greet you, brothers, to the nobler strife
Of building up the newer, larger life!
Join hands! Join hands! Ye nations of the stock!
And make henceforth a mighty Trust for Peace.
A great enduring peace that shall withstand
The shocks of time and circumstance; and every land
Shall rise and bless you—and shall never cease
To bless you—for that glorious gift of Peace.
GOD'S HANDWRITING
He writes in characters too grand
For our short sight to understand;
We catch but broken strokes, and try
To fathom all the mystery
Of withered hopes, of death, of life,
The endless war, the useless strife,—
But there, with larger, clearer sight,
We shall see this—His way was right.
STEPHEN—SAUL
Stephen, who died while I stood by consenting,
Wrought in his death the making of a life,
Bruised one hard heart to thought of swift repenting,
Fitted one fighter for a nobler strife.
Stephen, the Saint, triumphant and forgiving,
Prayed while the hot blows beat him to the earth.
Was that a dying? Rather was it living!—
Through his soul's travail my soul came to birth.
Stephen, the Martyr, full of faith and fearless,
Smiled when his bruised lips could no longer pray,—
Smiled with a courage undismayed and peerless,—
Smiled!—and that smile is with me, night and day.
O, was it I that stood there, all consenting?
I—at whose feet the young men's clothes were laid?
Was it my will that wrought that hot tormenting?
My heart that boasted over Stephen, dead?
Yes, it was I. And sore to me the telling.
Yes, it was I. And thought of it has been
God's potent spur my whole soul's might compelling
These outer darknesses for Him to win.