The news & observer. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1894-current, 1902-06-08
The Dwellings of Peace.
(By Henry Van Dyke.)

TWO dwellings, Peace, are thine.
one is the mountain height.
opilfted in the loneliness of light
Beyond the realms of shadows-fne
And far. and clear,-where advent of +bo
night - INC
Means only glorious nearness of tho
stars
AND dawn. unhindered, breaks above tho
bars eue
That long the lower world in twilight
keep. '"1ish0
Thou sleepest not and hast no need q,
sleep, Vi
For all thy cares and fears have dronned
away; 'pp0u
ne nights fatigue, the fever fret of dav
are lar below thee; and earth's weary
wars
IN VAIN expense of passion pass
before thy sight like vision in a glass
VI IKE the wrinkles of the storm that
creep
Across the sea and leave no trace
VI trouble on that immemorial face
% orlef appears the conflicts, and so
slight %
The wounds men give, the things for
which they fight.
here hangs fortress on the distant
steep
hchen clinging to the rock:
lnere sails a fleet upon the deep
a wandering flock
VI snow-winged gulls: and yonder. in
the plain,
marble palace shines,-a grain
Of mica glittering in the rain.
ana lar oeneoth thy feet the clouds are
rolled
BY yoiceiess winds: and far between
( The rolling clouds new shores and peats
are seen,
III shlmmering robes of green and gold.
And faint aerial hue
mat silent fades into the silent blue
Serene
Thou, from thy mountain-hoIJ.
All day. in tranquil wisdom, looking
down
On distant scenes of human toll and
strife
All night, with eyes aware of Ioftier life
Cplooking to the sky, where stars are
sown,
Dost watch the everlasting fields grow
white
Unto the harvest of the seeds of LIGHT
And welcome to thy dwelling place sun
lime
The few strong souls that dare to climb
The slippery crags and find thee on tbe
height.
But in the depth thou hast another home.
For heart less daring, or more frail
Thou dwellest also in the shadowy vale:
| And pilgrim-souls that roam
With weary feet DER hill and dale,
Bearing the burden and the heat
or toilful days,
Turn from the dusty ways
TO find thee in thy green and still retreat.
Here is no vision wide outsDread
Before the lonely and exalted seat
Or all-embracing knowledge Here. in
stead,
little garden, and a sheltered nook
With outlooks brief and sweet
Across the meadows and along the
brook
little stream that little knows
Of the great sea toward which it gladly
flows
little field that bears little wheat
TO make portion of earths daily bread.
The vast cloud-armies overhead
Are marshaled, and the wild wind blows
Its trumpet. but thou canst not tell
| Whence the storm comes nor where it
goes.
MI GOoI IHOu greatly care, since all is
we'll.
Thy daily task is done,
And tho a lowly one,
Thou gavest it Of thy best
| And art content to rest
| In patience till it's slow reward is won.
| Not far thou lookest, but thy sight is
clear;
Not much thou knowest, but thy faith is
dear:
For life is love, and love Is always near.
| Here friendship lights the fire, and every
| heart.
Sure OF itself and sure OF all the rest.
| Dares to be true, and gladly takes its
part
in open converse, bringing forth it's besi:
bere Is sweet music. melting every chain
or lasstudc and pain:
And here, at last, is sleep. the gift Of
gifts.
n -=-Ii-T77f fftrTTrs WIN TITTH
The soul grown weary OF the waking
world
| And lays Il. with its thoughts all furled.
It's fears forgotten. and It's passions atll,
On the decp bosom of the Eternal win.
TO rest
Upon Gods breast
: -HARPER's MAGAZINE.