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C.D. Warner, et al., comp.
The Library of the World’s Best Literature. An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.

Struggle and Peace

By Johanna Ambrosius (1854–1939)

A QUARTER-CENTURY warfare woke

No sabre clash nor powder smoke,

No triumph song nor battle cry;

Their shields no templared knights stood by.

Though fought were many battles hot,

Of any fight the world knew not

How great the perils often grew—

God only knew.

Within my deepest soul-depths torn,

In hands and feet wounds bleeding borne,

Trodden beneath the chargers’ tread,

How I endured, felt, suffered, bled,

How wept and groaned I in my woe,

When scoffed the malice-breathing foe,

How pierced his scorn my spirit through,

God only knew.

The evening nears; cool zephyrs blow;

The struggle wild doth weaker grow;

The air with scarce a sigh is filled

From the pale mouth; the blood is stilled.

Quieted now my bitter pain;

A faint star lights the heavenly plain;

Peace cometh after want and woe—

My God doth know.