Mary Weston Fordham

1845-1905 / the United States

Ode To Peace

Come Peace, on snowy pinions,
Come, nestle like a dove;
Encircle earth's dominions
With harmony and love.
Let anger, pride and malice,
And strife forgotten lie;
Nor from their venomed chalice,
Quaff more bitter draughts and die.

Come Peace, with arms extended,
Come, brood o'er this fair land;
Let battle scenes be ended,
And heart be joined with hand.
Let fields now crimsoned over,
With the life-blood of the brave,
Loom as monuments of warning,
Shine, as beacon lights to save.

Come Peace, a welcome waits thee,
From many a stricken life;
And many a heart-crushed mourner,
Now weary of the strife;
Methinks e'en now a footfall
Breaks like music on my ear,
As the distant sound of gladness,
When 'tis borne on summer's air.

May the echoes prove prophetic;
May thy murmurs from afar
Shed a radiance as refulgent,
Beam as bright as Bethlehem's Star.
And the hearts that have been riven,
And the bosoms that have bled,
Soon will change their griefs to gladness,
Yield to God and earth their dead.
THE COMING WOMAN. A REVERIE.
107 Total read