Not a man, and yet a man / by A.A. Whitman [electronic text]

PEACE.

As the raindrop on a flower When the bow 's behind a shower, As the breeze that fans the forehead Of the sunset, when his cheeks red Nestle on his mountain pillow, Or a sea without a billow; So is Peace's sweet libations, To the bosom of the Nations.

While the Shepherd's lone were tending Flocks by night on Judah's plain; Angels bright above them bending, Trumpeted their sweet refrain:

"Glory be to God in Heaven, Peace on earth, good will to men, To the world a Savior's given, Lo! he comes in Bethlehem.

Then a door in Heaven opened, And a milk-white spirit flew

From the golden portals earthward— And the Nation's journeying thro',

She touched the Conqu'ror's Sword, that thrust Thro' thousand hearts red honors wore; The glitt'ring terror fell before His eyes and crumbled into dust.

She breathed upon the warrior's wreath, And while applauses filled his ears, And earth her tribute paid of tears, His glory withered in her breath.

She stood behind the tyrant's throne; His sceptre vanished from his hand; And lo! he saw on sea and land, His gloomy power was gone.

She fanned the lab'rer's care-worn brow, And sunshine falling from her wing Into his heart, forced him to sing While leaning on his plow.

Then by his cot she turned her flight, And blithe health to the doorway ran, Contentment's sweetest songs began, And all within was light.