We bow to fear.
Fear fearfully
Bowed and bowed
To Eisenhower.
We think of war.
War thought of Eisenhower;
Victory, too.

Two infinite extremes,
War and Peace:
War, the destroyer
Of the blooming world;
Peace, the devourer
Of roaring War.

The Thunder
Of the Omnipotent,
Divinely arranged
For their dinner.
A dinner unprecedented,
And inimitable, too.

Both the Princes came in.
Two hearts became one
In a golden embrace.
They grew into All-Delight.

Dinner over,
War sat in absolute relief
At the feet of Eisenhower.
Peace commenced his dance,
A perfect stranger
To the dark hush of extinction-night.

God smiled.
In words of dynamic Silence, He spoke:
"The Man of the Hour."