Only A Word.

Till our world, so sad and weary,
Finds the balmy rest of peace--
Peace to silence all her discords--
Peace till war and crime shall cease.

Peace to fall like gentle showers,
Or on parchéd flowers dew,
Till our hearts proclaim with gladness:
Lo, He maketh all things new.
Translation: 
Language: 
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.