Poems (Crandall)/Peace
For works with similar titles, see Peace.
Peace
Despair not, gentle sister, Tho' faint with the heat of the day;Tho' scorched and withered the roses, Whose thorns pierce thy feet on the way.
Still bravely struggle, my sister, The pain at thy heart shall cease;Thou shalt hear in thy deepest anguish The voice of the Master—"Peace."
Find rest in this peace, sweet sister, Thou art worn with the toil of the day;The roses died in life's morning, The thorns pierce thy feet on the way.