Poems (White)/Sunset

by Jeannie Copes White

For works with similar titles, see Sunset.

SUNSET

The sunset is red; then I hear it is said
There is rain in the clouds for the morn;
When we see at sunrise that there's black in the skies,
Then the day truly ends with a storm.
Is our world at her dawn? Is it only just born?
Has her sunset the after-glow shed?
There's deep red in the sky, who can tell why?
Is it daybreak, or sunset's last red?
Who will sacrifice life in a terrible strife?
Heaven points to the leaders of men.
Nor will one to his foe boldly white courage show,
Shoulder cross, which is peace,—its emblem.
Wave the banner of truce, and bear all the abuse;
'Tis far braver for brave men to yield,—
So to conquer their fight, if their reason says right,
When impulse, and the blood, calls to field.
All the world knows that might rarely ever is right;
In this age, with its progress, 'tis least.
And if dark be our night, trust our day to be bright,
If the sun cast no red in the east;
But if sunrise is lead, there is dark night ahead,
And the light may not come with the day.
Let us wave this cloud past, that our sunset may cast
A white flag that floats Peace for a day.