A treasury of war poetry, British and American poems of the world war, 1914-1919/Clean Hands
Jump to navigation
Jump to search
CLEAN HANDS
MAKE this thing plain to us, O Lord!
That not the triumph of the sword—
Not that alone—can end the strife,
But reformation of the life—
But full submission to Thy Word!
Not all the stream of blood outpoured
Can Peace—the Long-desired—afford;
Not tears of Mother, Maid or Wife . . .
Make this thing plain!
We must root out our sins ignored,
By whatsoever name adored;
Our secret sins, that, ever rife,
Shrink from the operating knife;
Then shall we rise, renewed, restored . . .
Make this thing plain!