For peace, for joy,—not that the slave might lie
In luxury,
Not that all woe from us should always fly,
Or golden crops with Syrian roses vie
In every field; but in Thy peace to die
And rise,—be free!
THE GRANDEURS OF MARY
By Frederick William Faber, D.D.
What is this grandeur I see up in heaven,
A splendour that looks like a splendour divine?