by Henry Vaughan

MY soul, there is a country
    Far beyond the stars,
Where stands a wingèd sentry
    All skillful in the wars :
There, above noise and danger,
    Sweet Peace sits crown'd with smiles,
And One born in a manger
    Commands the beauteous files.
He is thy gracious Friend,
    And—O my soul awake !—
Did in pure love descend,
    To 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 secure,
But One, who never changes,
    Thy God, thy life, thy cure.

Vaughan, Henry. The Poems of Henry Vaughan, Silurist. vol I.
E. K. Chambers, Ed. London, Lawrence & Bullen Ltd., 1896. 83.

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