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.
