Classic Poem

I

While in a thousand open'd Veins
Contending Nations bleed,
While Bri'rs and Thorns on blooming Plains
And fruitful Fields succeed;

II

While Desolation rages round,
Like an o'erwhelming Flood,
Where can a Remedy be found
To stop these Streams of Blood?

III

Eternal Spirit! Source of Good!
The Author of our Peace,
Pour down thine Influence, like a Flood,
On this wide Wilderness.

IV

O grant us one reviving Show'r,
And let it spread afar:
Thine Influence alone can cure
The bleeding Wounds of War.

V

Come, Thou — and then the Wilderness
Shall bloom a Paradise,
And heav'nly Plants t' adorn and bless
O'er this wild Waste shall rise:

VI

Then Peace shall in large Rivers flow,
Where Streams of Blood have run;
Then universal Love shall glow,
And all the World be one;

VII

Then num'rous Colonies shall rise,
A People all Divine,
To fill the Mansions of the Skies,
And bright as Angels shine.