When mighty issues loom before us, all The petty great men of the day seem small, Like pigmies standing in a blaze of light Before some grim majestic mountain-height. War, with its bloody and impartial hand, Reveals the hidden weakness of a land, Uncrowns the heroes trusting Peace has made Of men whose honour is a thing of trade, And turns the searchlight full on many a place Where proud conventions long have masked disgrace. O lovely Peace! as thou art fair be wise. Demand great men, and great men shall arise To do thy bidding. Even as warriors come, Swift at the call of bugle and of drum, So at the voice of Peace, imperative As bugle’s call, shall heroes spring to live For country and for thee. In every land, In every age, men are what times demand. Demand the best, O Peace, and teach thy sons They need not rush in front of death-charged guns With murder in their hearts to prove their worth. The grandest heroes who have graced the earth Were love-filled souls who did not seek the fray, But chose the safe, hard, high, and lonely way Of selfless labour for a suffering world. Beneath our glorious flag again unfurled In victory such heroes wait to be Called into bloodless action, Peace, by thee. Be thou insistent in thy stern demand, And wise, great men shall rise up in the land.
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