"There is a poem by John Ruskin which speaks of that good time coming when cruelty shall cease and terrible wars shall be no more."
A SONG OF PEACE.
"'Put off, put off your mail, ye kings, and beat your brands to dust;
A surer grasp your hands must know, your hearts a better trust.
Nay, bend aback the lance's point, and break the helmet bar,
A noise is in the morning winds, but not the note of war!
"'Among the grassy mountain paths the glittering troops increase;
They come! they come! how fair their feet--they come that publish peace.
Yea, Victory, fair Victory, our enemies are ours,
And all the clouds are clasped in light, and all the earth with flowers.
"'Ah! still depressed and dim with dew, but wait a little while,
And radiant with the deathless rose the wilderness shall smile,
And every tender, living thing shall feed by streams of rest,
Nor lamb shall from the fold be lost, nor nursling from the nest.'"
"That reminds us of what the prophet said about the time when all the beasts even shall lose their cruel traits and live at peace with each other, and even play with little children."
"Could that ever be true, mamma?" interrupted Harold.
ON GUARD
