H O W L O N G , 0 L O R D ? R. S. A . P., in London Times
How long, O Lord, how long, before the flood O f crimson-welling carnage shall abate ? From sodden plains in West and East the blood O f kindly men steams up in mists of hate ‘ Polluting Thy clean air ; and nations great In reputation of the arts that bind The world with hopes of Heaven, sink to the state Q f brute barbarians, whose ferocious piind Gloats o’er the bloody havoc of their kind, Not knowing love or mercy. Lord, how long
Shall Satan in high placés lead the blind To battle for the passions of the strong?
Oh, touch Thy children’s hearts, that they may know Hate theirjnost hateful, pride their deadliest foe.
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