Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900.
By Nathaniel LangdonFrothingham142 The Crossed Swords
S
The chiefs who drew them, parted by the space
Of two proud countries’ quarrel, face to face
Ne’er stood for death or life.
While nerve was in the hands that wielded them;
Hands better destined a fair family stem
On these free shores to set.
Emblems no more of battle, but of peace;
And proof how loves can grow and wars can cease,
Their once stern symbol stands.
Of marshalled books and friendliest companies;
And here a history among histories,
It still shall smile for aye.
Of him the firm commander; and that other,
The stainless judge; and him our peerless brother,—
All fallen now asleep.
To cheer the patriot-soldier in his course,
That Right shall triumph still o’er insolent Force:
That be your silent speech.
And may those nations twain, as sign and seal
Of endless amity, hang up their steel
As we these weapons do!
So smeared with blots of hate and bloody wrong,
Pining for peace, and sick to wait so long,
Hail this meek cross at last.