Charles Sorley
There is silence in the evening when the long days cease,
And a million men are praying for an ultimate release
From strife and sweat and sorrow–they are praying for peace.
But God is marching on.
Peace for a people that is striving to be free!
Peace for the children of the wild wet sea!
Peace for the seekers of the promised land–do we
Want peace when God has none?
We pray for rest and beauty that we know we cannot earn,
And ever are we asking for a honey-sweet return;
But God will make it bitter, make it bitter, till we learn
That with tears the race is run.
And did not Jesus perish to bring to men, not peace,
But a sword, a sword for battle and a sword that should not cease?
Two thousand years have passed us. Do we still want peace
Where the sword of Christ has shone?
Yes, Christ perished to present us with a sword,
That strife should be our portion and more strife our reward,
For toil and tribulation and the glory of the Lord
And the sword of Christ are one.
If you want to know the beauty of the thing called rest,
Go, get it from the poets, who will tell you it is best
(And their words are sweet as honey) to lie flat upon your chest
And sleep till life is gone.
I know that there is beauty where the low streams run,
And the weeping of the willows and the big sunk sun,
But I know my work is doing and it never shall be done,
Though I march for ages on.
Wild is the tumult of the long grey street,
O, is it never silent from the tramping of their feet?
Here, Jesus, is Thy triumph, and here the world’s defeat
For from here all peace has gone.
There’s a stranger thing than beauty in the ceaseless city’s breast,
In the throbbing of its fever–and the wind is in the west,
And the rain is driving forward where there is no rest,
For the Lord is marching on.
_December 1912_
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Analysis (AI Assisted)
This war poem is a meditation on the nature of peace, struggle, and divine purpose, grappling with the tension between human desires for rest and the spiritual reality that conflict and toil may be necessary for spiritual growth. The speaker seems to question the conventional understanding of peace, offering a stark, challenging perspective that contrasts with the often romanticized notion of tranquility.
The opening lines set the tone with a depiction of silent, exhausted men praying for “an ultimate release” from their suffering. Yet, while the people long for peace, the speaker points out that peace is not a divine guarantee; in fact, it may be at odds with the very will of God. The reference to God “marching on” suggests that divine action is relentless, purposeful, and inextricably tied to conflict. It implies that God’s plan does not cater to human desires for ease but rather requires struggle and perseverance.
The poem continues with an exploration of peace as a human aspiration. The speaker asks, “Do we want peace when God has none?” This rhetorical question challenges the notion that peace is the ultimate good. It invokes the idea that human desires for rest, represented in the quest for “honey-sweet return,” are often misguided or ill-timed. The speaker believes that peace is something to be earned through hardship, not something to be passively received. The repeated refrain, “God is marching on,” serves as a reminder that divine will often leads through strife, rather than stillness.
The poem further references Jesus and the sword, invoking the paradox of Christian teachings. Jesus’ death, rather than bringing peace, is depicted as introducing a sword for battle—a symbol of ongoing struggle and spiritual warfare. The line “Christ perished to present us with a sword” suggests that suffering and conflict are not anomalies, but integral parts of the divine plan. This aligns with the speaker’s larger thesis that peace, if it is ever to be achieved, must be earned through sacrifice and hardship.
The later stanzas emphasize the tension between beauty and toil. The speaker acknowledges the beauty of nature—”the beauty of the thing called rest”—but counters it with the assertion that “my work is doing and it never shall be done.” This refusal to embrace restful beauty reflects a deeper understanding of life’s purpose: it is not about avoiding hardship, but about enduring it with perseverance and purpose. The work, perhaps symbolic of both worldly and spiritual labor, is unending. The speaker suggests that true beauty lies not in the cessation of struggle, but in the work itself.
The closing lines of the poem return to the idea of a “ceaseless city,” a place of unremitting activity and turmoil. Here, peace has “gone,” and all that remains is a sense of divine triumph in the midst of conflict. The driving rain and unyielding west wind evoke a sense of urgency and relentless motion, underscoring the poem’s central theme: the march of God’s will is unstoppable, and peace, as humanity imagines it, is not the goal.
Overall, this war poem challenges conventional ideas about peace, rest, and divine intervention. It critiques the human longing for escape and comfort, suggesting that true fulfillment lies in enduring the struggle, as part of a divine plan that transcends immediate desires. The sword of Christ, rather than a symbol of violence, becomes a symbol of endurance and spiritual growth. The poem invites the reader to reconsider peace not as an end goal, but as a complex and often painful part of the human journey.