POETRY.
FULFILMENT.
Wins wars are done, And when the splendour of the setting elm Goes down serenely on a quiet shore, Whose faithful tides forevermore Bring in the memory Of those who died that life might be : When we are grown so tender and so brave, That on a bitter grave We lay forgiveness, garlanded With love and pity; for the alien dead, Grieving that they were cruel once and blind.
Praying that in Thy Light their eyes may find The vision of a world that still can be, A kinship such as neither they nor we Dreamed in the old unshriven days Yea, when divided ways Are one, A grander world begun : When love and tears and laughter are grown deep As saeraments, and Mercies never sleep, But watch and mourn the dead Where they lie comforted; And when the heart's warm rain Fella on the blessed grain Of Brotherhood, when eager sewers fling It lavishly and far, that it may spring In harvests sweet and wide, Whose thrilling sheaves are tied
By hands once enemied : When all of this shall be,
Then, then a Bookend Calvary Shall rise; the Mount whereon the price Of deathless peace is laid, Man's love and sacrifice; A Hill immense, resplendent, high, Whence all the ruined earth, the darkened sky Shall kindle, and shall burn with phcenix-fire,
The flame of purged desire.
G. 0. WARREN.
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