p. 1 | A Canticle in War by Arthur W. Spaulding

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Dec 16, 1915

A Canticle in War

By Arthur W. Spaulding

ARTHUR W. SPAULDING

Glory to Thee, Father, and Author of glory! In these dread days, At altars of death-stricken homes and battle fields gory, We render Thee praise!.

Not with the offering of blood make we an oblation,— Sacrifice vain,— Though drenched is Thy footstool by nation on nation With blood profane.

We offer no sacrifice to Thee, but, bowed in sorrow, Lowly we kneel, Praying that after this darkness some happy tomorrow Thy face shall reveal.

For, though the heavens above us are crashing with thunder, And earth beneath Reels with the blows of the pitiless swords that sunder Loves in black death,

Still to Thy throne, the seat of immutable justice, We lift our eyes, Knowing that out of the turmoil we yet shall witness Some glad surprise.

For though the madness of nations, in wrath and in terror, Cast down the right, Soon shall be ended that madness, and evil, and error, Before Thy might.

Light from the darkness! Out of the midnight Thy glory! From battle to peace! For in the battle of battles is ended earth's story, And time shall cease.

Then, though war rage, and evil blast men with its wages, Glory to Thee! For, lo, we behold, enwrapped in the doom of the ages, Eternity.