For Peace
Flowers grow in the grass,
Baby footfalls pass Over the fields once red,
Over the hero's head— For Peace.
The earth, through her leafy veil,
Whispers a magic tale;
And the scholar reads in the clod The latest news of God— For Peace.
Brave little wires are
For voices to fly upon;
Words out of clouds are
From some witch's woof of
For Peace.
And the cataract's foamy troubles Illumine a million bubbles,
In some city far away Turning the night to day— For Peace.
Proud trains, heralds austere,
Bring far-off nations near,
Piercing the mountain's crown,
Treading the barriers down— For Peace.
Swift ships, that pound the sea,
Set the earth-chained spirit free,
Show the whole round world unrolled Before the young moon grows old— For Peace.
And the white-winged aeroplane Laughs, in its mad disdain,
At limits and barricades And cruisers and cavalcades—For Peace.
Even the war engines dread— The guns with bomb-shells fed,
The grim gray battle-ships— Shout through their iron lips For Peace.
Oh, never a hero's grave But for Peace his life he gave!
And the warrior bears his scar,
And the poet sings of war For Peace.
Harriet Monroe
Other author posts
March
I See the snow-drops flutter Their white wings in the gale I hear the robin utter On high his gallant tale Look where the rash wind chases With clouds the climbing sun The day makes merry faces— Gaily her gray steeds run
A Letter To One Far Away
Dear Wanderer— The sky is gray, With flecks of blue The clouds rush over A bird is singing Far away, And butterflies Taste of the clover
These Two
They died these two &mdash The little boys I knew &mdash One at Gallipoli and one in France Long ago &mdash Oh, twenty years or so &mdash They used to romp and Over the grass, under the trees One toddling
The Childless Woman
O Mother of that heap of clay, so passive on your breast, Now do you stare at death, woman, who yesterday were blest Now do you long to fare afar, and guide him on the Where he must wander all alone, his little feet astray