1 Years are coming, speed them onward
when the sword shall gather rust,
and the helmet, lance, and falchion
sleep at last in silent dust.
Earth has heard too long of battle,
heard the trumpet's voice too long.
But another age advances,
Seers foretold in ancient song.

2 Years are coming when forever
war's dread banner shall be furled,
and the angel Peace be welcomed,
regent of a happy world.
Hail with song that glorious era,
when the sword shall gather rust,
and the helmet, lance and falchion
sleep at last in silent dust.