There is the 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 posesses, Of conflicts won, while learning to endure. A peace there is, in sacrifice secluded, A life subdued, from will and passion free; 'T is not the peace that over Eden brooded, But that which triumphed in Gethsemane. |