Oh sweet the voice that tells of victory won at last,
That strife between the nations now is passed.
That we may rest in safety and in quietness,
Thro’out the hours of holy darkness calm and still.
No noise of guns or sirens blast to warn,
Only sweet sleep until the peaceful morn.
When waking to our work with happy thankfulness,
We sing our praise to God and his salvation bless.
How blest to hear the Storms of God’s creation,
The roar of winds wild exultation.
We revel in the rolling drums of thunder,
and brave the shining of the lightning’s sword.
We fear no earthly foe now God is near,
but worship him with love and holy fear.
To shape anew our lives oh grant us grace,
and knit the hearts of all in their embrace …
The exact date of the poem ‘Sweet the Voice that Tells of Victory’ is not known. It is possible that May wrote it, in a thoughtful but somewhat optimistic mood as Easter 1941 approached, following reports of Yugoslavia and Greece’s position on the Allied side and of USA sending help (see 6 Apr. 1941). The poem has been added to the poems collection on this site. It also appears in the book The Casualties Were Small.
Have you read an introduction to May Hill & family (includes photographs) and explored ‘The Casualties Were Small’?