Bugle Call

O pilot now your ship of days or years

Unerringly to reach a promised goal.

The Master Helmsman will allay your fears

And still the tempests that would scar your soul.

You leave the haven of a citadel

Which greed would now destroy; so let a song

Rise from your heard that you may break the spell

Of avarice that moves a Judas-throng.

Wearing white armor, go and give release;

Brave terror's henchmen on the death-strewn plain;

Bid earth to sing a canticle of peace,

Become a sanctuary--love's domain.

Your shield is youth's clean strength which you have won--

God's arm is long to reach to you, my son.

The Improvement Era