Christmas 1917

: 1 ;

HIIIIII INI lllll llll Ill > II rllUKIIITIIIIIIIMl 1 i 1 1 1 1 1 1 II 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 t 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 I 1 1 1 £ jj I I ' ' 1 1 1

Lo, once again has come His day of Birth,

The Gentle One, whom Prince of Peace we name And yet red war is master of the earth, The sword and torch advance in blood and flame. Far now the time when Christ hung on the Cross,

When down his cheek the tears of sorrow ran, And yet the tides of battle rage and toss. The fear of man is still his brother man.

Lo, on this day, as on that day long past,

Is greed of power, ambition's lust and pride,

— II II 'I ' I I - 1 : 1 I ' i ' ' 1 1 1 II 1 1 1 1 It 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 ) 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 MM 1 1 M 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 : 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 U 1 1 1 < 1 1 ! M. 1 1 < I' 1 1 1 ' MM M I ' 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 .-

:

'lllllllllll'IIMIIIIIIIIIIIIimmilllllllllMlllllllllllllllimillllllllllMI III Mill III iiiiiiiiiimiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii^

And love and mercy were to darkness cast, As grappled men in stubborn hate have died Great Teacher, in thy word the soul can tell

The peace to follow this grim reign of hell! Alfred Lambourne.

iiiiiiiiiimmiiiiniiiiiinimi iiiiiiiitmiiiiiininiiii mini i i minnimiini iiiiiiiiinmiiiiiii iiiik iiiiiiiiiimiiiiiiiiiimi