and lofty aim?Will wait in patience for the end,
Knowing injustice cannot claim?One lasting victory, or control?Laws that bar progress for the whole.
This is an epoch-making time;
God thunders through the universe?A message glorious and sublime,
At once a blessing and a curse.?Blessings for those who seek His light,?Curses for those whose law is might.
Ephemeral as the sunset glow
Is human grandeur. Mortal life?Was given that souls might seek and know
Immortal truths; and through the strife?That shakes the earth from land to land?The wise shall hear and understand.
Out of the awful holocaust,
Out of the whirlwind and the flood,?Out of old creeds to Bedlam tossed,
Shall rise a new earth washed in blood -?A new race filled with spirit power,?This is the world's stupendous hour.
THE MESSAGE
I have not the gift of vision,
I have not the psychic ear,?And the realms that are called Elysian
I neither see nor hear;?Yet oft when the shadows darken
And the daylight hides its face,?The soul of me seems to hearken
For the truths that speak through space.
They speak to me not through reason,
They speak to me not by word;?Yet my soul would be guilty of treason
If it did not say it had heard.?For Space has a message compelling
To give to the ear of Earth;?And the things which the Silence is telling
In the bosom of God have birth.
Now this is the truth as I hear it -
That ever through good or ill,?The will of the Ruling Spirit
Is moving and ruling still.?In the clutch of the blood-red terror
That holds the world in its might,?The Race is learning its error
And will find its way to the light.
And this is the Truth as I see it -
Whoever cries out for peace,?Must think it, and live it, and BE IT,
And the wars of the world will cease.?Men fight that man may awaken,
And no longer want to kill;?Wars rage, and the heavens are shaken
That man may learn how to be still.
In the silence he finds his Saviour -
The God Who is dwelling within;?And only by Christ-behaviour
Is the soul of him saved from sin.?There is only one Source--no other -
One Light, and each soul is a ray;?And he who would slaughter his brother,
HIMSELF he is seeking to slay.
Now these are the Truths we are learning
Through evils and horrors untold;?For the thought of the race is turning
Away from its methods of old.?And the mind of the race is sated,
With the things that it prized of yore,?And the monster of war is hated,
As never on earth before.
Oh, slow are God's mills in the grinding,
But they grind exceedingly small;?And slow is man's soul in the finding,
That he is a part of the All.?Through aeons and aeons, his story
Is bloody and blackened with crime;?But he will come out into glory
And stand on the summits sublime.
He will stand on the summits of Knowledge,
In the splendour of Light from the Source;?And the methods of church and of college
Will all of them change by his force.?For the creeds that are blind and cruel,
And the teachings by rule and by rod,?Will all be turned into fuel
To light up the pathway to God.
This is the Truth as I hear it -?The clouds are rolling away,?And Spirit will talk with Spirit?In the swift approaching day.?War from the world shall be driven,?From evil shall come forth good;?And men shall make ready for Heaven?Through living in Brotherhood.
'FLOWERS OF FRANCE'?DECORATION POEM FOR SOLDIERS' GRAVES, TOURS, FRANCE, MAY 30, 1918
Flowers of France in the Spring,?Your growth is a beautiful thing;?But give us your fragrance and bloom -?Yea, give us your lives in truth,?Give us your sweetness and grace?To brighten the resting-place?Of the flower of manhood and youth,?Gone into the dust of the tomb.
This is the vast stupendous hour of Time,?When nothing counts but sacrifice and faith,?Service and self-forgetfulness. Sublime?And awful are these moments charged with death?And red with slaughter. Yet God's purpose thrives?In all this holocaust of human lives.
I say God's purpose thrives. Just in the measure?That men have flung away their lust for gain,?Stopped in their mad pursuit of worldly pleasure,?And boldly faced unprecedented pain?And dangers, without thinking of the cost,?So thrives God's purpose in the holocaust.
Death is a little thing: all men must die;?But when ideals die, God grieves in Heaven.?Therefore I think it was the reason why?This Armageddon to the world was given.?The Soul of man, forgetful of its birth,?Was losing sight of everything but earth.
Up from these many million graves shall spring,?A shining harvest for the coming race.?An Army of Invisibles shall bring?A glorified lost faith back to its place.?And men shall know there is a higher goal?Than earthly triumphs for the human soul.
They are not dead--they are not dead, I say,?These men whose mortal forms are in the sod.?A grand Advance-Guard marching on its way,?Their Souls move upwards to salute their God!?While to their comrades who are in the strife?They cry, 'Fight on! Death is the dawn of life.'
We had
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