Papauer I ‘Morpheus’. [Memorial Day Poppy] (1768-1786)
THE WAR IS O’ER
The guns are still, the war is o’er,
The boys come home from foreign shore;
As they now reach their journey’s end
They’re met by relative and friend:
Their medals won, their ribbons gay
Are marked with pride for many a day.
We think of those who lonely dwell,
And tears are shed for those who fell.
But now we note how selfish greed
Has fastened on our country’s need:
The gangster in the market black
Does scrupple not his land to sack:
Base men lead forth the strike parade
Till we a stricken land are made:
And gamblers follow in their wake,
And liquor men their booty take.
The world seems just a sorry mess
Where few care ought for righteousness;
The nations growl and lust for power,
And hasten not the peaceful hour;
The starving millions cry for bread;
Whole nations face a future dread:
Although a righteous few are left,
They seem well nigh of power bereft.
But what means all this wrack to us?
We’re told by Christ it should be thus.
This is the day the Lord has made:
We have the Son of God to aid:
Our lives in Christ can be as grand
As any lived in any land;
In meeting new the world’s deep need,
We can make great our heavenly meed.
We turn aside on this spring day
To honor those who’ve passed away.
(When our day too on earth is done,
What victory then shall we have won?)
We honor those who wrought to win
These labors we have entered in.
Although we seem both few and weak,
In us will Christ the victory see.
Image ID: 1161429. Papauer I ‘Morpheus’. [Memorial Day Poppy] (1768-1786)