Page:The Muse in Arms, Osborn (ed), 1917.djvu/211

 LXXII

OT yet for us may Christmas bring

Good-will to men, and peace;

In our dark sky no angels sing,

Not yet the great release

For men, when war shall cease.

So must the guns our carols make,

Our gifts must bullets be,

For us no Christmas bells shall wake;

These ruined homes shall see

No Christmas revelry.

In hardened hearts we fain would greet

The Babe at Christmas born,

But lo, He comes with piercèd feet,

Wearing a crown of thorn,—

His side a spear has torn.

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