Peace on the whirring marts,
Peace where the scholar thinks—the hunter roams,
Peace, God of Peace! Peace, peace, in all our homes,
And peace in all our hearts!
"Peace in the quiet dales
Made rankly fertile by the blood of men."
LA BELLE JUIVE.
HENRY TIMROD.
Is it because your sable hair
Is folded over brows that wear
At times a too imperial air;
Or is it that the thoughts which rise
In those dark orbs do seek disguise
Beneath the lids of Eastern eyes;