So shall the land have rest from war, and truth and peace prevail? the time is past, when battle-strength was judged some holy grail. The time has gone when tribe on tribe could claim a victor's prize, with slaughtered flesh on poisoned lands where every virtue dies. The aching hearts and longing eyes of nations everywhere, of women, men, and boys and girls want life, not death to share. Yet we who cry to God to help or blame him for our woes must search elsewhere, recall our votes, trace where our money goes. What have we written, said or sung? What have we failed to do? Where have we argued, marched, or stood, or dared to think anew? The causes of half-demolished homes, wrecked hospitals, bombed schools, lies in ourselves; for ruined fields are made by ruined fools. So shall the land have rest from war: some hope- light years away? Not if, before we cry to God, we hear God cry today.