Peace (Vaughan)
My soul, there is a countryFar beyond the stars,Where stands a wingéd sentryAll skilful in the wars;
There above the noise and danger,Sweet Peace sits crown'd with smiles,And One born in a mangerCommands the beauteous files.
He is thy gracious Friend,And—O my Soul awake! —Did in pure love descendTo 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 thy foolish ranges,For none can thee secureBut One, who never changes,Thy God, thy life, thy cure.
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