When I consider how our peace is rent,
   'Ere three short years of this new age be fled
   And that one triumph which we prized, instead
Flung from us, squandered, though our need's unspent
For laws of which the U.S. President
   Must take account, lest he unchallenged claim
   "Our God exacts dark war on all we blame" -
I softly weep. But Good Faith to prevent
That sorrow, soon replies, "God does not bless
   That man of blood's work or his might. Who best
   Obey His law, their reign is blest: their State
Is coming." Millions, as our hearts impress,
   Crowd streets and squares, 'cross countries without rest;
   That rule alone is blest which ends war's hate.

                    (Apologies to John Milton)