There's a 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 learning to endure.
A peace there is, in sacrifice secluded;
A life subdued, from will and passion free;
'Tis not the peace which over Eden brooded,
But that which triumphed in Gethsemane.
by Jessie Rose Gates
No comments:
Post a Comment