Peace by Amos Russel Wells

The willows glimmer in the sun,
The aspens tremble on the breeze,
The singing ripples gently run
Within the shadows of the trees.

The quiet, meditative kine,
The steady granite in the wall—
What peace, contenting and benign,
Enfolds and crystallizes all!

Rebuked, ashamed, the faithless fret,
The childish worry, fall away;
My empty fear and vain regret
Dissolve in God's assuring day.

If peace on earth so fair and sweet
Is gladly, freely, fully given,
What joy some day our souls will greet,—
The unimagined peace of heaven!