"Peace on earth," rang the chorus seraphic, "And good will evermore among men."

Blue waves of ocean are reddened with gore, Victor and victim earth holds to her breast; Hearts that will thrill with ambition no more; Heads that so lately fond mothers caressed.

O where is the song of the angels?

O when shall we hear it again?

"Peace on earth," rang the chorus seraphic, "And good will evermore among men."

Victory, purchased at infinite cost, Honors and t.i.tles so fearfully won, Fame, at the price of lives blighted and lost, Graves, all unnoted, unnumbered, unknown.

O where is the song of the angels?

Dear Christ, let us hear it again; "Peace on earth," send the chorus seraphic, "Peace on earth, and good will among men."

A NEW EARTH

I have dreamed a sweet dream; I have seen a fair vision; I have looked the wide universe o'er; And earth's nations arise in a glory elysian-- They do not learn war any more.

There are music and mirth; there are childhood's sweet voices, Winsome age lends its placid charm there; There are laughter and glee as when home-life rejoices Unshadowed by sorrow or care.

In all n.o.ble achievement, all worthy endeavor, Men in kindly ambition contend; But the valiant of heart may yet know he hath ever In his st.u.r.diest foeman a friend.

Nevermore the proud boast or the haughty defiance;-- Without end shall His kingdom increase; 'Tis the day of _all nations in Holy Alliance_, 'Tis the reign of truth, justice, and peace.

Nevermore shall a nation lift sword against nation, The dominion of Hatred is o'er; 'Tis the triumph of Love, 'tis the dawn of Christ's kingdom, They shall not learn war any more.

RECALL

Put up thy sword, O Nation, grand and strong!

Call in thy fleet-winged missiles from the sea; Art thou not great enough to suffer wrong, Land of the brave, the freest of the free?

Put up thy sword. 'Tis n.o.bler to endure Than to avenge thee at another's cost; And while thy claim and purpose are made sure, Behold that other's life and honor lost.

Put up thy sword. It hath not hushed the cry That called it all too rashly from its sheath; Still o'er the fated isle her children lie And find surcease from anguish but in death.

Put up thy sword, O Country, strong and free, Let strife and avarice and oppression cease; So shall the world thy Star of Empire see Resplendent o'er the heaven-touched hills of Peace.

PHILISTIA'S TRIUMPH

1 Samuel 4: 10, 11; 7: 3.

(WRITTEN ON THE DEFEAT OF THE PROHIBITION AMENDMENT IN PENNSYLVANIA.)

They fought with lances in that ancient day, With sword and spear and arrow deftly sped.

At eventide the hosts of Israel lay Vanquished and spoiled, the dying with the dead; And the Ark of G.o.d was taken.

They fought with ballots in our nearer day; From morn to eve the light-winged missiles flew; Again Philistia's triumph brought dismay, And Wrong, victorious, struggling Virtue slew, And the Ark of G.o.d was taken.

O ye to whom the sacred trust was given To guard the altar and the ark of G.o.d, Have ye been recreant to the charge of heaven, That thus we fall before the avenging rod, And the Ark of G.o.d is taken?

Rouse from your shameful slumbers. Put away Your strange G.o.ds from among you. Turn again; That in the drawing of some n.o.bler day The hosts of sin may be rebuked of men, And the Ark of G.o.d re-taken.

THE WHITE RIBBON ARMY

(Air: King Bibbler's Army.)

FOR M. B. T.

In the years, years ago, when the true-hearted women, Started forth on their errand of prayer, Many said, "'Tis the cry of the Home for protection"; Many said, "'Tis delusion and snare."

Some said, softly, "G.o.d bless you"; some murmured, "Mistaken"; Some the swift shafts of calumny hurled; But they went bravely forward, a praying procession, Marching out, out, out in the world.

_Chorus_

Hark! hark! a trembling chorus: No, no, no, no; We cannot have Rum ruling o'er us; No, no, no, no; And now to save our young men the White-Ribbon Army Marches on, on, on round the world.

At the head of the host came the silver-haired mothers, Arm in arm with the daughters so fair; While the wives for their husbands, the girls for their brothers, Raise their voices to heaven in prayer.

As their pleadings prevail, and "the worst foe" surrenders, The white banner of peace is unfurled; And we now may behold them, a joyful procession, Marching on, on, on round the world.

_Chorus_

Hark! hark! a swelling chorus: No, no, no, no; We cannot have Rum ruling o'er us; No, no, no, no; And oh to save our country the White-Ribbon Army Marches on, on, on round the world.

They have entered the gates of the Empire Celestial, They have compa.s.sed the Isles of the Sea, And they carry glad tidings of good to all people, From the land of the brave and the free.

On the peeress of England, on Afric's dark daughter, Is the white-ribbon emblem now twirled; And the army moves onward, a dauntless procession, Marching on, on, on round the world.

_Chorus_

Hark! hark! a ringing chorus: No, no, no, no; We cannot have Rum ruling o'er us; No, no, no, no; And lo! to save all nations the White-Ribbon Army Marches on, on, on round the world.

CHRISTMAS

Dawn of glory! radiant morn!

To-day the Christ, our King, is born.

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