And be the cannon’s voice for ever dumb
Except to celebrate the joys of peace!
Are ye not brothers? God, whom we revere,
Is He not the Father of all climes and lands?
Form an alliance, holy and sincere,
And join, join hands!”
The song died away in a tremulous wave of melody, and a pearly light began to suffuse the atmosphere like the first suggestion of the opening morn. Weary and pale, but still dauntless and unconquered, the Angel of the Light dealt stroke for stroke, blow for blow against his Enemy, when all at once, with a sudden and savage onslaught, the Angel of the Darkness caught his opponent by the arm which held the sword, and almost wrenched the dazzling weapon from his hand. And then the Angel of the Light gave a great cry of supplication.
“O God of Justice and of Love!” petitioned the silver-sounding voice; “Suffer not Thy Christian kingdom to be torn from Thy gracious protection! Clear Thou this Cloud of evil days, and take away the heavy weight of fear and of sorrow from the hearts of Thy stricken and suffering people, who do not forget Thy mercies in the past! Give Me the Crown, O God of Empires!—Give Me the King!”
And as the prayer was spoken, the Angel of the Darkness fell back, weakened and dismayed, for the heavenly Warrior, grasping his sword with redoubled force and purpose, dealt with it one mighty stroke which brought his foe to the ground.
“Yield thou, mine Enemy!” cried the triumphant Angel; “Claim no more that which was never thine! Seek no more that which shall never belong to thee! Mine is the Crown!—mine is the Kingdom!—and mine, by the grace of God, is the King!”