"Upon the Watch-Tower"

O Lord, how long? We watch and wait
     The coming of that better day, 
When love, triumphant over hate,
     Shall rule the earth with sovereign sway; 
When he who toils, and he who bleeds,
     The promise of its dawn shall see, 
And slaves of power and slaves of creeds
     Shall hear the word that makes them free.

O Lord, how long? We wait and watch;
     Night lingers, and the rough wind chills; 
We strive some gleam of morn to catch,
     Slow climbing o'er the eastern hills — 
Some glimpses of. the herald star,
     Whose light shall tell its advent near; 
But lo! the darkness wide and far,
     Blots out the whole broad hemisphere!

O Lord, how long? The earth is old, 
     And reels, sin-stricken, to its doom,
Burdened with sorrows manifold,
     And veiled in more than midnight gloom;
Her children weep upon her breast,
     And, heavenward, eyes of suppliance turn;
Perplexed by doubts, by fears distressed, 
     Too blind thy promise to discern.

Yet is that promise sure! and sure
     The coming of earth's better day, 
Though long the night of wrong endure,
     And still the dawn of right delay! 
O make us brave to watch and wait
     The hour by prophet-bards foretold, 
When thou shalt lift the Orient's gate
     And flood the lands with morning's gold!