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AFTER
337
Instead of the thorn shall come up the fir tree, and instead of the briar shall come up the myrtle tree; and it shall be to the Lord for a name, for an everlasting sign that shall not be cut off.
And they shall beat their swords into plowshares,
And their spears into pruning-hooks;
Nation shall not lift up sword against nation,
Neither shall they have war any more.
AFTER
After the darkness, dawning
And stir of the rested wing,
Fresh fragrance from the meadow,
Fresh hope in everything!
After the winter, springtime
And dreams that flowerlike throng;
After the tempest, silence;
After the silence, song!
After the heat of anger,
Love that all life enwraps;
After the stress of battle,
The trumpet sounding "taps";
