There is the peace that cometh after sorrow,
Of hope surrendered, not of hope fulfilled;
A peace that looketh not upon to-morrow,
But calmly on a tempest that is stilled.
A peace which lives not now in joy’s excesses,
Nor in the happy life of love secure,
But in the unerring strength the heart possesses,
Of conflicts won, while...
Sweet Peace, where dost thou dwell? I humbly crave,
Let me once know.
I sought thee in a secret cave;
And asked if Peace were there.
A hollow wind did seem to answer, “No!
Go, seek elsewhere.”
I did; and, going, did a rainbow note:
“Surely,” thought I,
“This is the lace of Peace’s coat....
IS this the peace of God, this strange sweet calm?
The weary day is at its zenith still,
Yet ’t is as if beside some cool, clear rill,
Through shadowy stillness rose an evening psalm,
And all the noise of life were hushed away,
And tranquil gladness reigned with gently soothing sway.
It was not so just now. I turned aside
With...
My soul, there is a country
Afar beyond the stars,
Where stands a wingèd sentry,
All skilful in the wars.
There, above noise and danger,
Sweet peace sits crowned with smiles,
And One born in a manger
Commands the beauteous files.
He is thy gracious friend,
And (O my soul awake!)
Did in pure love...
Daughter of God! that sitt’st on high
Amid the dances of the sky,
And guidest with thy gentle sway
The planets on their tuneful way;
Sweet Peace! shall ne’er again
The smile of thy most holy face,
From thine ethereal dwelling-place,
Rejoice the wretched, weary race
Of discord-breathing men?
Too long, O gladness-giving...
Come to these scenes of peace,
Where, to rivers murmuring,
The sweet birds all the summer sing,
Where cares and toil and sadness cease!
Stranger, does thy heart deplore
Friends whom thou wilt see no more?
Does thy wounded spirit prove
Pangs of hopeless, severed love?
Thee the stream that gushes clear,
Thee the birds that...
I many times thought Peace had come
When Peace was far away —
As Wrecked Men — deem they sight the Land —
At Centre of the Sea —
And struggle slacker — but to prove
As hopelessly as I —
How many the fictitious Shores —
Before the Harbor be —
If pain for peace prepares
Lo, what "Augustan" years
Our feet await!
If springs from winter rise,
Can the Anemones
Be reckoned up?
If night stands fast — then noon
To gird us for the sun,
What gaze!
When from a thousand skies
On our...
Oh Future! thou secreted peace
Or subterranean woe —
Is there no wandering route of grace
That leads away from thee —
No circuit sage of all the course
Descried by cunning Men
To balk thee of thy sacred Prey —
Advancing to thy Den —
All hail vernal Phoebus! all hail ye soft breezes!
Announcing the visit of spring;
How green are the meadows! the air how it pleases!
How gleefully all the birds sing!...
