Peace Is The First Thing The Angels

The Trivial Round, The Common Task,would Furnish All We Ought To Ask.

Sprinkled Along The Waste Of Years Full Many A Soft Green Isle Appears: Pause Where We May Upon The Desert Road, Some Shelter Is In Sight, Some Sacred Safe Abode.

Look In, And See Christ's Chosen Saint In Triumph Wear His Christ-like Chain; No Fear Lest He Should Swerve Or Faint; "his Life Is Christ, His Death Is Gain.

Love Masters Agony; The Soul That Seemed Forsaken Feels Her Present God Again And In Her Father's Arms Contented Dies Away.

The Voice That Breathed O'er Eden, That Earliest Wedding Day.