Part 20

Must the hearts of fearless valor Fail 'mid crime and cruel wrong, When the world has read of heroes Brave and earnest, true and strong?

Men to stay the floods of sorrow Sweeping round each war-crushed heart; Men to say to strife and carnage-- From our world henceforth depart.

God of peace and God of nations, Haste! oh, haste the glorious day

MACEO. 81

When the reign of our Redeemer O'er the world shall have its sway.

When the swords now blood encrusted, Spears that reap the battle field, Shall be changed to higher service, Helping earth rich harvests yield.

Where the widow weeps in anguish, And the orphan bows his head, Grant that peace and joy and gladness May like holy angels tread.

Pity, oh, our God the sorrow Of thy world from thee astray, Lead us from the paths of madness Unto Christ the living way.

Year by year the world grows weary 'Neath its weight of sin and strife, Though the hands once pierced and bleeding Offer more abundant life.

May the choral song of angels Heard upon Judea's plain Sound throughout the earth the tidings Of that old and sweet refrain.

82 ONLY A WORD.

Till our world, so sad and weary, Finds the balmy rest of peace-- Peace to silence all her discords-- Peace till war and crime shall cease.

Peace to fall like gentle showers, Or on parchéd flowers dew, Till our hearts proclaim with gladness: Lo, He maketh all things new.

"FISHERS OF MEN."

I had a dream, a varied dream: Before my ravished sight The city of my Lord arose, With all its love and light.

The music of a myriad harps Flowed out with sweet accord; And saints were casting down their crowns In homage to our Lord.

"FISHERS OF MEN." 83

My heart leaped up with untold joy, Life's toil and pain were o'er; My weary feet at last had found The bright and restful shore.

Just as I reached the gates of light, Ready to enter in, From earth arose a fearful cry Of sorrow and of sin.

I turned, and saw behind me surge A wild and stormy sea; And drowning men were reaching out Imploring hands to me.

And ev'ry lip was blanched with dread, And moaning for relief; The music of the golden harps Grew fainter for their grief.

Let me return, I quickly said, Close to the pearly gate; My work is with these wretched ones, So wrecked and desolate.

An angel smiled and gently said: This is the gate of life, Wilt thou return to earth's sad scenes, Its weariness and strife,

84 SIGNING THE PLEDGE.

To comfort hearts that sigh and break, To dry the falling tear, Wilt thou forego the music sweet Entrancing now thy ear?

I must return, I firmly said, The strugglers in that sea Shall not reach out beseeching hands In vain for help to me.

I turned to go; but as I turned The gloomy sea grew bright, And from my heart there seemed to flow Ten thousand cords of light.

And sin-wrecked men, with eager hands Did grasp each golden cord; And with my heart I drew them on To see my gracious Lord.