11 & 10s. M.
Longfellow.
Down the dark future, through long generations,
The sounds of war grow fainter and then cease;
And, like a bell with solemn, sweet vibrations,
I hear once more the voice of Christ say, “Peace!”
Peace! and no longer, from its brazen portals,
The blast of war’s great organ shakes the skies;
But beautiful as songs of the immortals,
The holy melodies of love arise.
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