Swords and Plowshares/The Peace Congress
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AROUND a long green table sat Ambassadors of peace,To ponder for the Christian world How war and strife might cease; And captains of the sea were there And captains of the land,And with the tassels of their swords Played many an idle hand.
And some who had the morning's news Were reading there with zestOf battles in the farthest East And battles in the West;While at the door two sentries stood. With muskets at their sideAnd bayonets fixed, to show that peace Depends on war and pride.
The president then rang his bell, And up a bishop rose,And prayed for all the kings and queens In most poetic prose.His lips that every week had asked For victory in war,Now prayed that in our time sweet Peace Might come for evermore.
Then suddenly the hall grew bright, The roof was rent in two,And down from heaven an angel came To their astonished view:The envoys looked aghast, the priest Muttered a faint "Amen!"A stern voice answered, "I am Peace; What would you have, ye men?
"Why is it that you call me here From God's unsullied air—Here, where the smell of blood corrupts The spirit of your prayer?Here where you dare to name mу паmе Holding a blood-stained sword?"(The troubled counsellors now hid Their hilts beneath the board.)
And who are these who guard the place?" (They slunk behind the door,And two such frightened shamefaced men I never saw before.)What mean these tawdry epaulets, And all this martial show?The very pictures on the wall But tell of war and woe.
Read me that journal lying there; Let its reports accuse.The president then picked it up And read the morning's news;And it was pitiful to hear His wretched, stammering tale,And it was pitiful to see His trembling lips turn pale.
He read about the Philippines Where prisoners are slainBy Yankee heroes while they curse The cruelty of Spain; He read of pious Englishmen Who slaughter as they pleaseTo boom Egyptian bonds, and stab The wounded Soudanese.
He read of Russian men-at-arms Who torture as they willThe gentle, peaceful Doukhobors Because they will not kill;He read of mighty realms that rob Poor China of her soil,And carve up Africa because The victor's is the spoil.
He read of Poland tyrannized, Of Ireland held by hate,Of Finland cheated of her rights, And Kruger's tottering state,Of Cuba and the Congo too, Samoa and far Tonquin—The whole world made a hell of blood By governmental sin.
He ceased to read, and for a time An awful silence fell,While all were waiting anxiously To hear what Peace might tell.At last she spake, and, breathing fast With loud, indignant speech,She thundered at the sorry crew With words that shook them each.
And thus it is," she cried in scorn, You and your masters deal;You fill the world with pain and grief And grind it with your heel;You build huge ships to murder men; You make the heart breed hate;You make the earth breed dynamite— And then you call you great.
You live by murder, hate and theft, And no one will pretendYour masters have the least design To bring them to an end.Ye hypocrites! who know full well That Peace can never reignUntil you cease from making war Nor take my name in vain.
Begone, base slaves of despots base, And drop your idle task,Or else the world will laugh, for now I've stripped you of your mask.Go home, and tell your masters all What they well knew before:That when at last Peace rules the earth, Then they will rule no more."
She stopped and forth she stretched her hand, And, at this sign of hers,They fled, their swords between their legs. Like a whipped pack of curs. There stood she, and for all I know, There stands she still serene,Triumphant in that empty hall Above the table green.