PEACE My Soul, there is a Countrie Afar beyond the stars, Where stands a winged sentrie All skilful in the wars, There, above noise and danger, Sweet peace sits crown'd 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 descend, To die here for thy sake. If thou canst get but thither, There growes the flowre of peace, The Rose that cannot wither, Thy fortresse, and thy ease. Leave then thy foolish ranges; For none can thee secure, But One, who never changes, Thy God, thy Life, thy Cure. -- Henry Vaughan --

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Last update 08/15/2019.