1 Down the dark future, through long generations,
The sounds of war grow fainter and then cease;
And, like a bell with solemn, sweet vibrations,
I hear once more the voice of Christ say, |Peace!|
2 Peace! and no longer, from its brazen portals,
The blast of war's great organ shakes the skies;
But beautiful as songs of the immortals,
The holy melodies of love arise.