Mad oaths of iron heals, breath after breath,--
Hate thunder and its lightning doom of death
To men. And all along the storm-torn trail,
Slow-dying mothers moan and children wail!
Men prayed for Peace. War quaked the earth instead.
But from the fields of righteous blood and tears,
Where fought and fell mall millions, maimed and dead,
Peace rose and reigned a thousand, thousand years.
Published in The Crisis, March 1919