Classic Poem

Who longs for the days of the princes
Who heralded war with a nod,
When a few enslaved many, and tyrants
O'er-tempted the patience of God?
The groan of the gates of the dungeon
Whence Death gave a welcome release,
Does it call to the banners of battle,
Or call to the colors of Peace?

Refrain:
No more to the banners of battle,
Henceforth to the colors of Peace!

O ye who through ages have suffered
The desperate sorrows of war —
Ye women, now strong as your brothers,
Who found you so feeble before:
The harp that was hushed in Judea,
The lute that grew silent in Greece,
Do they call to the banners of battle,
Or call to the colors of Peace?

Refrain:
No more to the banners of battle,
Henceforth to the colors of Peace!

In the purlieus of sin-befogged cities,
Slow food of neglect and of pest,
How many a mother lies dying,
With to-morrow's pale scourge at her breast!
And the bread-cry that serves for the prattle
Of orphans — (oh, when shall it cease?) —
Does it call to the banners of battle,
Or call to the colors of Peace?

Refrain:
No more to the banners of battle,
Henceforth to the colors of Peace!

O ye of the God-given voices,
My poets, of whom I am proud,
Who trumpet the true and the real
When illusions are dazzling the crowd:
Go, turn men from wolves and from cattle,
Till Love be the one Golden Fleece.
Oh, call us no more unto battle,
But call to the colors of Peace!

Refrain:
No more to the banners of battle,
Henceforth to the colors of Peace!