Intercessional

By Geoffrey Bache-Smith

There is a place where voices
    Of great guns do not come,
Where rifle, mine, and mortar
    For evermore are dumb:
Where there is only silence,
    And peace eternal and rest,
Set somewhere in the quiet isles
    Beyond Death’s starry West.

O God, the God of battles,
    To us who intercede,
Give only strength to follow
    Until there’s no more need,
And grant us at that ending
    Of the unkindly quest
To come unto the quiet isles
    Beyond Death’s starry West.

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