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POEMS. 425
* PEACE.
October 24th, 1828.
ALL is still; sweet Peace descending,
Bids my heart no longer languish ;
While the hours too swiftly wending
Wake no restless sigh of anguish.
Beauteous stranger, whence art coming —
Coming, when my need is sorest?
With thy lilies ever blooming,
Thou this drooping heart restorest.
Com’st thou like some nightly vision,
O thou flattering deceiver?
Shall thy fountain’s stream Elysian
From my lips be snatched forever ?
Art thou like the north light beaming,
When my charméd eye beholds thee?
Like the flame o’er tombstone gleaming,
Swiftly quenched when darkness folds thee?
Like the west wind softly blowing,
That of summer’s advent speaketh ?
Like those tears repentant showing
When God’s voice the sinner waketh ?
Com’st thou from bright regions soaring,
With some blessed salutation ?
Then with psalms I’ll turn adoring
To the God of my salvation.
Sure some glimpses thou wilt waken
Of that home with all its treasures;
Make this heart, with anguish shaken,
Fit to taste of heavenly pleasures.
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