POEMS OFPEACE AND WAR
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ELIZABETH H. CONNOR
THE RECORD PRESS
HAVERHILL, MASSACHUSETTS
1917{2}
Copyright, 1917, by
ELIZABETH H. CONNOR
POEMS OF PEACE AND WAR
SIMPLICITY.
Simplicity is the essence,
In all God’s wondrous work,
This glowing truth divinely blest
Within our hearts should lurk;
So God will come as we perceive,
This kingdom to possess,
And all that’s base will fade away,
All evil He’ll suppress.
In all God’s wondrous work,
This glowing truth divinely blest
Within our hearts should lurk;
So God will come as we perceive,
This kingdom to possess,
And all that’s base will fade away,
All evil He’ll suppress.
A WORLD REPUBLIC IS ARISING.
A torn sunset of purple and crimson
Floats o’er the warring breeze,
While a powerful new light is forming
Far o’er the briny seas,
For the day of dynasties is fading
Into the darkest night,
As a world republic is arising
Clear as the morning light.
Floats o’er the warring breeze,
While a powerful new light is forming
Far o’er the briny seas,
For the day of dynasties is fading
Into the darkest night,
As a world republic is arising
Clear as the morning light.
Faith in God will enlighten our vision
Shining through grim despair,
For a wonderful light is approaching,
Glowing with love and care,
Completely trusting in God above us,
Though sad our hearts may be,
Will reveal the dawn of a brighter day
In fair democracy.
Shining through grim despair,
For a wonderful light is approaching,
Glowing with love and care,
Completely trusting in God above us,
Though sad our hearts may be,
Will reveal the dawn of a brighter day
In fair democracy.
THE BIRTH OF THE FLOWERS.
(A Reverie On Creation.)
The sun’s bright rays through breaking clouds,
On tiny beads of crystal fell,
While o’er the earth in mantle green
A rainbow circled hill and dell;
Brilliant, majestic it appeared,
In many colors to be seen,
Neath misty heav’ns and setting sun
O’er man’s first paradise serene.
On tiny beads of crystal fell,
While o’er the earth in mantle green
A rainbow circled hill and dell;
Brilliant, majestic it appeared,
In many colors to be seen,
Neath misty heav’ns and setting sun
O’er man’s first paradise serene.
The angels winged their flight from heav’n,
Towards the many colored bow,
Like seagulls sweeping o’er the sea,
Then lighting on the waves below;
Down through the clouds they beat their wings,
From the depths of
Towards the many colored bow,
Like seagulls sweeping o’er the sea,
Then lighting on the waves below;
Down through the clouds they beat their wings,
From the depths of
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