BEFORE A STATUE OF BUDDHA

O Buddha, of the mystic smile
And downcast, dreamful eyes,
To whom unnumbered sacred shrines
And gilded statues rise,

Whose fanes are filled with worshippers,
Whose hallowed name is sung
By myriads of the human race
In every Eastern tongue,

What means thy sweet serenity?
Our planet, as it rolls,
Sweeps through the starry universe
A mass of burdened souls,

Still agonized and pitiful,
Despite the countless years
That man has spent in wandering
Through paths of blood and tears!

O Lord of love and sympathy
For all created life,
How canst thou view thus placidly
The world's incessant strife,

The misery and massacre
Of war's destructive train,