I came across this poem by chance yesterday. One or two of the lines are a bit "twee" for my taste. But, whenever I read something written hundreds of years ago, it makes me wonder at how people so long ago knew so much of the same things we know, and had the same feelings we have. Amazing.
Any dose of peace is a good thing in my book.
My soul, there is a country
Far beyond the stars,
Where stands the winged sentry
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 grows the flower of Peace,
The Rose that cannot wither,
Thy fortress, and thy ease.
Leave then they foolish ranges;
For none can thee secure
But One who never changes -
Thy God, thy life, thy cure.
Henry Vaughan 1621 - 1695.
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