Poems (Coates 1916)/Volume II/Art and War

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WAR has its field of blood—heart-breaking War—
 Wherein to rule with undisputed sway
 Throughout its own mad, self-exhausting day.
There, where it rashly sacrifices more
Than laboring Time may ever quite restore,
 Shall it amid red welter and decay
 Strive horribly; but let it not essay
To enter where Peace guards the Future's door!

War has nor right, nor privilege, nor part
 In lives high-dedicate the world to bind
Through love and hope and the great dream of Art!
 All Lands to such are Fatherland; they find
In alien realms love's grateful, welcoming heart—
 They, chosen of the Gods to bless mankind!