When weariness binds each step, and people’s shenanigans get a bit much,

When every good done seems to come to naught, and hope begins to dry,

Another gentle hand on the arm, urging us up…..

The Peacemaker

by Alfred Joyce Kilmer (1886 – 1918)

Upon his will he binds a radiant chain,

For Freedom’s sake he is no longer free

It is his task, the slave of Liberty

With his own blood to wipe away a stain

That pain may cease, he yields his flesh to pain

To banish war, he must a warrior be

He dwells in Night, eternal Dawn to see,

And gladly dies, abundant life to gain.

What matters Death, if Freedom be not dead?

No flags are fair, if Freedom’s flag be furled

Who fights for Freedom, goes with joyful tread

To meet the fires of Hell against him hurled,

And has for captain Him whose thorn-wreathed head

Smiles from the Cross upon a conquered world.


June 14, 1918


    1. Thanks, Sue. My post this time was for a friend who had a couple of knives at her. I didn’t always have the right words for her, and even when I did, they weren’t the words she would have wanted to hear. Peacemaker has the words to help us keep our eyes on what matters… and to keep the knives away from us. Much in the same way as your Martha’s Vineyard Poster.


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