"Surely it should be so," he made reply;

"The sated earth cries out against the flow

Of human blood: 'How long? how long?' The cry

Must pierce the heavens from writhing hearts below.

"But men heed not; the glamor and the gain

Of warfare blind them to its sin and pain;

They know not pity and they count not cost

Till armies meet and life and cause are lost.

"Would they but listen 'twere an errand blest

To plead against oppressor for oppressed;

Would they but follow it were joy indeed

Up the white hills of truth and peace to lead.

"But, ah! the multitudes are gone astray,

The powerful of the earth will have their way;

What profit, sister, in our prayers and tears?

Why mar the spring-time gladness of our years

"In vain pursuit of universal good?

In fruitless care for earth's vast brotherhood?

Glad would I grasp such work could I but see.

Or near, or far, your hoped-for victory."

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