How Long, O Lord, How Long?
By W. R. Patterson
How long, O Lord, how long
Shall justice be denied,
While we're swept along
By the maddened throng,
And Love is crucified? How long shall selfish Greed
The scales of justice hold,
While Truth is crushed,
And her voice is hushed
With bribes of shining gold? How long, O Lord, how long
Must rise from earth the wail,
While the ground echoes
To the maddening woes
Of nations in travail? How long shall tyrant Hate
Rule with a cruel hand,
While Mercy weeps,
And Justice sleeps,
And Peace forsakes the land? How long, O Lord, how long?
Hear Thou the bitter wail
From the gory sand
Of a war-swept land—
A planet in travail. While the battle smoke, like incense,
To the god of wars ascends,
The martial tread
O'er fields of dead
With the voice of weeping blends. They've bowed the knee to Mammon,
And sacrificed to Mars;
And now in keeping
Comes the reaping,
The baleful fruits of wars. We've heard the cruel trumpet,
And tramp of the maddened throng,
And the people's cry
To Thee on high,
“How long, O Lord, how long?” The end of wars and carnage,
Thy scepter’s peaceful sway,
Thy coming soon,
Sum up the boon
For which we wait and pray.