DOMESTIC PEACE.
Tell me on what holy ground
May Domestic Peace be found—
Halcyon daughter of the skies!
Far, on fearful wings she flies,
From the pomp of scepter’d state,
From the rebel’s noisy hate.
In a cottaged vale she dwells,
Listening to the Sabbath bells!
Still around her steps are seen
Spotless Honor’s meeker mien,
Love, the sire of pleasing fears,
Sorrow smiling through her tears,
And, conscious of the past employ,
Memory, bosom-spring of joy.
Samuel Taylor Coleridge.
