Poem December 23, 1939 Issue

Peace Is Here

ALICE JACQUELINE SHAW

WHAT was it like when angels sang of peace
Upon Judea's hills that winter night?
Was there a light
That shone as if it would not cease:
As if the earth would ne'er be dark again,
Now peace had come to men?

Has the earth sunk into a dusk of pain?
And must we strain
Our eyes to see a hint of one pale star?
No! if we hush our hearts we still can hear,
Louder than all earth's noises, sweet and clear,
That song which came of old to hills afar,
By Bethlehem. And round the troubled sphere
Of earth it echoes, lifting us above
The sounds of conflict to a haven of love.

The angels still are singing. Let us lay
Aside earth's weapons. We are tired at last
Of hates and fears.
Yes, we are tired of useless tears,
And cries from breaking hearts; of all the past
Which mocks so broken vows.
Let us look up and say,
"We will take all the good that God endows
His sons with: we will stay
Our sad beliefs beliefs of sin." And, lo! the Christ has come,
And we are safe—at home.

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