Quenching, with reckless hands in blood,
Sparks kindled by the breath of God.
J. G. Whittier.
Such is war!
O heavens! when will the spiritual Sun arise,
And with His beams effulgent, drive away
The mists of error that so long have hung
Their dark, unnatural drapery o’er the mind,
That broods o’er human carnage! when will man
Turn from the path of Cain, and learn to see