Peace
Bessie Rayner Parkes Belloc
The steadfast coursing of the stars,
        The waves that ripple to the shore,
        The vigorous trees which year by year
        Spread upwards more and more;
        
The jewel forming in the mine,
        The snow that falls so soft and light,
        The rising and the setting sun,
        The growing glooms of night;
        
All natural things both live and move
        In natural peace that is their own;
        Only in our disordered life
        Almost is she unknown.
        
She is not rest, nor sleep, nor death;
        Order and motion ever stand
        To carry out her firm behests
        As guards at her right hand.
        
And something of her living force
        Fashions the lips when Christians say
        To Him Whose strength sustains the world,
        "Give us Thy Peace, we pray!"
        
      