PEACE

HENRY VAUGHAN

My Soul, there is a Countrie 
  Far beyond the stars, 
Where stands a winged Centrie 
  All skilfull 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 (0 my Soul awake!) 
Did in pure love descend 
  To die here for thy sake, 
If thou canst get but thither, 
  There growes the flowre of peace, 
The Rose that cannot wither, 
  Thy fortresse, and thy ease; 
Leave then thy foolish ranges; 
  For none can thee secure, 
But one, who never changes, 
  Thy God, thy life, thy Cure.