 | Words by the Wayside |  |
50
Christmas, 1898
“Peace upon earth, goodwill to men,”
The burden of our Christmas cry—
Again we greet it, and again
Blush for our incredulity.
Ah, God! that such a hope should seem
The figment of an empty dream!
The burden of our Christmas cry—
Again we greet it, and again
Blush for our incredulity.
Ah, God! that such a hope should seem
The figment of an empty dream!
In envious solitude apart,
Or leagued in lust, the nations sit:
Wrath in their eyes, and hate at heart,
With bristling guns they gospel it:
“Peace! what hast thou to do with peace?
War upon earth, and gain's increase!”
Or leagued in lust, the nations sit:
Wrath in their eyes, and hate at heart,
With bristling guns they gospel it:
“Peace! what hast thou to do with peace?
War upon earth, and gain's increase!”
Whose praise do priest and poet sing?
Whose altars stand in all our coasts?
With incense and with offering
We call upon the Lord of hosts,
And, calling, know not to our shame
Love, Truth, and Justice, are His Name.
Whose altars stand in all our coasts?
With incense and with offering
We call upon the Lord of hosts,
And, calling, know not to our shame
Love, Truth, and Justice, are His Name.
O Love i' the heart Omnipotent,
O fire of Truth within the mind,
O Justice, who from heaven hast bent,
Mankind to save against mankind—
Great Trinity to whom we bow,
Be near us, nay, be with us, now!
O fire of Truth within the mind,
O Justice, who from heaven hast bent,
Mankind to save against mankind—
Great Trinity to whom we bow,
Be near us, nay, be with us, now!
51
Through all the centuries hath rung
No nobler challenge than to-day
Peals forth from that Imperial tongue
To bid the world's arm'd torrent stay.
Peal on, great voice from throne to throne,
Till Hate's last harvesting be mown!
No nobler challenge than to-day
Peals forth from that Imperial tongue
To bid the world's arm'd torrent stay.
Peal on, great voice from throne to throne,
Till Hate's last harvesting be mown!
And, England, if thou would'st not earn
Dishonour's self-envenomed sting,
Speak, or to lasting silence turn,
And cease this coward questioning
“When shall His Kingdom come, and when
Peace upon earth, goodwill to men?”
Dishonour's self-envenomed sting,
Speak, or to lasting silence turn,
And cease this coward questioning
“When shall His Kingdom come, and when
Peace upon earth, goodwill to men?”
| Words by the Wayside | |