What Shall The Coming Year Bring Forth, O Lord, Who Rulest The Land? For The Navies Of The Sea And Air Are But Stubble In Thy Hand. The Battalions In The Field Go Forth; They Arm In Mighty Line; Do They Kneel To Know Thy Holy Will? Have They Asked From Thee A Sign? The Kings Invoke Thy Holy Name, In Their Carnage And Their Strife; But The Purple Gift It Was Thine To Give Recks Not Of Pity Nor Life: For They're Drunk With The Wine Of Lustful Power, And Seared With The Sins Of Earth; And Their Prayers And Preachments Now Mock Thy Name, And Make Of Thy Laws But Mirth. January 1, 1916. For Duncan Campbell Scott.