Classic Poem

No tranquil ordered day of ours
But some lad paid its bloody price;
No joy that brims our hands but lives
By reason of dire sacrifice;
No love but that fulfills itself
Upon their broken loves; no nights
Of quiet sleep but others wept
Their cost on Golgotha's grim heights.

They gave their safety for our own;
For us they fought and bled and died;
Drained sorrow's cup, took on themselves
The anguish of the Crucified;
Bought our slow ease with piercèd hands,
Our laughter with their piteous cries;
Our singing with pale silenced lips,
Our wonder with their blinded eyes.

Their names are writ on every flower,
On every tree their sign is set.
Birds are their words; by day and night
The very stones cry out our debt.
We will keep faith! Our hands take up
The charge their dying hands let fall—
And in an everlasting peace
We build their proud memorial.

No tranquil ordered day of ours
—But some lad paid its bloody price;
No joy that brims our hands but lives
—By reason of dire sacrifice;
No love but that fulfills itself
—Upon their broken loves; no nights
Of quiet sleep but others wept
—Their cost on Golgotha's grim heights.

They gave their safety for our own;
—For us they fought and bled and died;
Drained sorrow's cup, took on themselves
—The anguish of the Crucified;
Bought our slow ease with piercèd hands,
—Our laughter with their piteous cries;
Our singing with pale silenced lips,
—Our wonder with their blinded eyes.

Their names are writ on every flower,
—On every tree their sign is set.
Birds are their words; by day and night
—The very stones cry out our debt.
We will keep faith! Our hands take up
—The charge their dying hands let fall—
And in an everlasting peace
—We build their proud memorial.