Guns of Peace - Dinah Maria Mulock Craik

Ghosts of dead soldiers in the battle slain,

Ghosts of dead heroes dying nobler far

In the long patience of inglorious war,

Of famine, cold, heat, pestilence and pain,—

All ye whose loss makes up our vigorous gain—

This quiet night, as sounds the cannon’s tongue,

Do ye look down the trembling stars among,

Viewing our peace and war with like disdain?

Or, wiser grown since reaching those new spheres,

Smile ye on those poor bones ye sow’d as seed

For this our harvest, nor regret the deed?

Yet lift one cry with us to Heavenly ears—

“Strike with Thy bolt the next red flag unfurl’d,

And make all wars to cease throughout the world.”

Sunday night, March 30, 1856.—Close of the Crimean War.

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Dinah Maria Mulock Craik (1826–1887) England

Source: Every Day in the Year: A Poetical Epitome of the World’s History, ed. by James L. Ford and Mary K. Ford. New York: Dodd, Mead & Co., 1902