Join hands! Join hands! Ye nations of the stock! And make henceforth a mighty Trust for Peace. A great enduring peace that shall withstand The shocks of time and circumstance; and every land Shall rise and bless you--and shall never cease To bless you--for that glorious gift of Peace. GOD'S HANDWRITING He writes in characters too grand For our short sight to understand; We catch but broken strokes, and try To fathom all the mystery Of withered hopes, of death, of life, The endless war, the useless strife,-- But there, with larger, clearer sight, We shall see this--His way was right. STEPHEN--SAUL Stephen, who died while I stood by consenting, Wrought in his death the making of a life, Bruised one hard heart to thought of swift repenting, Fitted one fighter for a nobler strife. Stephen, the Saint, triumphant and forgiving, Prayed while the hot blows beat him to the earth. Was that a dying? Rather was it living!-- Through his soul's travail my soul came to birth. Stephen, the Martyr, full of faith and fearless, Smiled when his bruised lips could no longer pray,-- Smiled with a courage undismayed and peerless,-- Smiled!--and that smile is with me, night and day. O, was it _I_ that stood there, all consenting? _I_--at whose feet the young men's clothes were laid? Was it _my_ will that wrought that hot tormenting? My heart that boasted over Stephen, dead? Yes, it was I. And sore to me the telling. Yes, it was I. And thought of it has been God's potent spur my whole soul's might compelling These outer darknesses for Him to win. PAUL Bond-slave to Christ, and in my bonds rejoicing, Earmarked to Him I counted less than nought; His man henceforward, eager to be voicing That wondrous Love which Saul the Roman sought. Sought him and found him, working bitter sorrow; Found him and claimed him, chose him for his own; Bound him in darkness, till the glorious morrow Unsealed his eyes to that he had not known. WAKENING This mortal dies,-- But, in the moment when the light fails here, The darkness opens, and the vision clear Breaks on his eyes. The vail is rent,-- On his enraptured gaze heaven's glory breaks, He was asleep, and in that moment wakes. MACEDONIA, 1903 Devils' work! Devils' work, my masters! _Britain, your hands are red_! You may close your heart, but you cannot shirk This terrible fact,--_We--kept--the--Turk_. His day was past and we knew his work, But he played our game, so we kept the Turk, For our own sake's sake we kept the Turk. _Britain, your hands are red_! Red are the walls and the ways, _And--Britain, your hands are red_! There is blood on the hearth, and blood in the well, And the whole fair land is a red, red hell,-- _Britain, your hands are red_! "_Come over! Come over and help us_!" We are deaf to the ancient cry. --"_For the sake of our women and children_!" And Britain stands quietly by. _O Britain, your hands are red_!