<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=508861" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Song Of The Pacifist</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">What do they matter, our headlong hates, when we take the toll of our Dead?<br>Think ye our glory and gain will pay for the torrent of blood we have shed?<br>By the cheers of our Victory will the heart of the mother be comforted?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">If by the Victory all we mean is a broken and brooding foe;<br>Is the pomp and power of a glitt'ring hour, and a truce for an age or so:<br>By the clay-cold hand on the broken blade we have smitten a bootless blow!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">If by the Triumph we only prove that the sword we sheathe is bright;<br>That justice and truth and love endure; that freedom's throned on the height;<br>That the feebler folks shall be unafraid; that Might shall never be Right;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">If this be all: by the blood-drenched plains, by the havoc of fire and fear,<br>By the rending roar of the War of Wars, by the Dead so doubly dear. . . .<br>Then our Victory is a vast defeat, and it mocks us as we cheer.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Victory! there can be but one, hallowed in every land:<br>When by the graves of our common dead we who were foemen stand;<br>And in the hush of our common grief hand is tendered to hand.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Triumph! Yes, when out of the dust in the splendour of their release<br>The spirits of those who fell go forth and they hallow our hearts to peace,<br>And, brothers in pain, with world-wide voice, we clamour that War shall cease.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Glory! Ay, when from blackest loss shall be born most radiant gain;<br>When over the gory fields shall rise a star that never shall wane:<br>Then, and then only, our Dead shall know that they have not fall'n in vain.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When our children's children shall talk of War as a madness that may not be;<br>When we thank our God for our grief to-day, and blazon from sea to sea<br>In the name of the Dead the banner of Peace . . . that will be Victory.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Robert+William+Service">Robert William Service</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=508861" data-title="The Song Of The Pacifist de Robert William Service" data-description="What do they matter, our headlong hates, when we take the toll of our Dead? Think ye our glory and gain will pay for the torrent of blood we have shed? By the cheers of our Victory will the heart of the mother be comforted? If by the Victory all ..."></div> </div> </div>

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