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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420482" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Disarmament</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">"Put up the sword!" The voice of Christ once more<br>Speaks, in the pauses of the cannon's roar,<br>O'er fields of corn by fiery sickles reaped<br>And left dry ashes; over trenches heaped<br>With nameless dead; o'er cities starving slow<br>Under a rain of fire; through wards of woe<br>Down which a groaning diapason runs<br>From tortured brothers, husbands, lovers, sons<br>Of desolate women in their far-off homes<br>Waiting to hear the step that never comes!<br>O men and brothers! let that voice be heard.<br>War fails, try peace; put up the useless sword!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Fear not the end. There is a story told<br>In Eastern tents, when autumn nights grow cold,<br>And round the fire the Mongol shepherds sit<br>With grave responses listening unto it:<br>Once, on the errands of his mercy bent,<br>Buddha, the holy and benevolent,<br>Met a fell monster, huge and fierce of look,<br>Whose awful voice the hills and forests shook,<br>"O son of peace!" the giant cried, "thy fate<br>Is sealed at last, and love shall yield to hate."<br>The unarmed Buddha looking, with no trace<br>Of fear and anger, in the monster's face,<br>In pity said, "Poor fiend, even thee I love."<br>Lo! as he spake the sky-tall terror sank<br>To hand-breadth size; the huge abhorrence shrank<br>Into the form and fashion of a dove<br>And where the thunder of its rage was heard,<br>Circling above him sweetly sang the bird:<br>"Hate hath no harm for love," so ran the song,<br>"And peace unweaponed conquers every wrong!"</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Greenleaf+Whittier">John Greenleaf Whittier</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420482" data-title="Disarmament de John Greenleaf Whittier" data-description=""Put up the sword!" The voice of Christ once more Speaks, in the pauses of the cannon's roar, O'er fields of corn by fiery sickles reaped And left dry ashes; over trenches heaped With nameless dead; o'er cities starving slow Under a rain..."></div> </div> </div>
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