A Plea To Peace

When mighty issues loom before us, all     The petty great men of the day seem small,     Like pigmies standing in a blaze of light     Before some grim majestic mountain-height.     War, with its bloody and impartial hand,     Reveals the hidden weakness of a land,     Uncrowns the heroes trusting Peace has made     Of men whose honour is a thing of trade,     And turns the searchlight full on many a place     Where proud conventions long have masked disgrace.     O lovely Peace! as thou art fair be wise.     Demand great men, and great men shall arise     To do thy bidding.    Even as warriors come,     Swift at the call of bugle and of drum,     So at the voice of Peace, imperative     As bugle's call, shall heroes spring to live     For country and for thee.    In every land,     In every age, men are what times demand.     Demand the best, O Peace, and teach thy sons     They need not rush in front of death-charged guns     With murder in their hearts to prove their worth.     The grandest heroes who have graced the earth     Were love-filled souls who did not seek the fray,     But chose the safe, hard, high, and lonely way     Of selfless labour for a suffering world.     Beneath our glorious flag again unfurled     In victory such heroes wait to be     Called into bloodless action, Peace, by thee.     Be thou insistent in thy stern demand,     And wise, great men shall rise up in the land.