Over the din of battle,
Over the cannons' rattle,
Over the strident voices of men and their dying groans,
I hear the falling of thrones.

Out of the wild disorder
That spreads from border to border,
I see a new world rising from ashes of ancient towns;
And the Rulers wear no crowns.

Over the blood-charged water,
Over the fields of slaughter,
Down to the hidden vaults of Time, where lie the worn-out things
I see the passing of Kings.



THE PEACE ANGEL



Angel of Peace, the hounds of war,
Unleashed, are all abroad,
And war's foul trade again is made
Man's leading aim in life.
Blood dyes the billow and the sod;
The very winds are rife
With tales of slaughter. Angel, pray,