Part 20

We have outgrown the helmet and cuirass, The spear, the arrow, and the javelin. These crude inventions of a cruder age, When men killed men to show their love of God, And he who slaughtered most was greatest king. We have outgrown the need of war! Should men Unite in this one thought, all war would end.

Disarm the world; and let all Nations meet Like Men, not monsters, when disputes arise. When crossed opinions tangle into snarls, Let Courts untie them, and not armies cut. When State discussions breed dissensions, let Union and Arbitration supersede The hell-created implements of War. Disarm the world! and bid destructive thought Slip like a serpent from the mortal mind Down through the marshes of oblivion. Soon A race of gods shall rise! Disarm! Disarm!

THE CALL

All wantonly in hours of joy, I made a song of pain. Soon Grief drew near, and paused to hear, And sang the sad refrain, Again and yet again.

Then recklessly in my despair, I sang of hope one day. And Joy turned back upon life’s track, And smiled, and came my way, And sat her down to stay.

A LITTLE SONG

Oh, a great world, a fair world, a true world I find it; A sun that never forgets to rise, On the darkest night, a star in the skies, And a God of love behind it.

Oh, a good life, a sweet life, a large life I take it, Is what He offers to you, and me; A chance to do, and a chance to be, Whatever we chose to make it.

Oh, a far way, a high way, a sure way He leads us; And if the journey at times seems long, We must trudge ahead, with a trustful song, And know at the end He needs us.

NEW THOUGHT PASTELS

A DIALOGUE

MORTAL

The world is full of selfishness and greed. Lord, I would lave its sin.

SPIRIT

Yea, mortal, earth of thy good help has need. Go cleanse thyself within.

MORTAL

Mine ear is hurt by harsh and evil speech. I would reform men’s ways.

SPIRIT

There is but one convincing way to teach. Speak thou but words of praise.

MORTAL

On every hand is wretchedness and grief, Despondency and fear. Lord, I would give my fellow men relief.

SPIRIT

Be, then, all hope, all cheer.

MORTAL

Lord, I look outward and grow sick at heart, Such need of change I see.

SPIRIT

Mortal, look in. Do thy allotted part, And leave the rest to ME.

THE WEED