Faith came singing into my room, and other guests took flight
Grief and anxiety, fear and gloom, sped out into the night
I wondered that such peace could be,
But faith said gently : Don?t you see, that they could never live with me.
Since hate is with us still, I wish men love;
I wish, since hovering hawks still strive to kill,
The coming of the dove.
And since the ghouls of terror and despair are still abroad,
I wish the world once more;
Within the love of those who have seen God.
© Elizabeth Anderson 1954
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