And, behold! you have other victims: a widow sobs by my side,
Who clasps to her breast a girl-child. Men, she was my slain son's
bride!
I can smell the stench of the shambles, where the mangled bodies lie;
I can hear the moans of the wounded; I can see the brave lads die;
And across the heaped, red trenches and the tortured, bleeding rows
I cry out a mother's pity to all mothers of dear, dead "foes."
In love and a common sorrow, I weep with them o'er our dead,
And invoke my sister woman for a curse on each scheming head.
Nay, why should we mothers curse you? Lo! flesh of our flesh are ye;
But, by soul of Mary who bore the Christ-man murdered at Calvary,
Into our own shall the mothers come, and the glad day speed apace
When the law of peace shall be the law of the women that bear the race;
When a man shall stand by his mother, for the worldwide common good,
And not bring her tears and heart-break nor make mock of her motherhood.
The Way to Peace
AN INTERVIEW WITH JACOB H. SCHIFF.
One of the leading American financiers and noted
philanthropist; founder of Jewish Theological Seminary and of
Semitic Museum at Harvard University; a native of Germany and
member of the firm of Kuhn, Loeb & Co.
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