THANK God for rest, where none molest, <br />And none can make afraid; <br />For Peace that sits as Plenty's guest <br />Beneath the homestead shade! <br />Bring pike and gun, the sword's red scourge, <br />The negro's broken chains, <br />And beat them at the blacksmith's forge <br />To ploughshares for our plains. <br />Alike henceforth our hills of snow, <br />And vales where cotton flowers; <br />All streams that flow, all winds that blow, <br />Are Freedom's motive-powers. <br />Henceforth to Labor's chivalry <br />Be knightly honors paid; <br />For nobler than the sword's shall be <br />The sickle's accolade. <br />Build up an altar to the Lord, <br />O grateful hearts of ours! <br />And shape it of the greenest sward <br />That ever drank the showers. <br />Lay all the bloom of gardens there, <br />And there the orchard fruits; <br />Bring golden grain from sun and air, <br />From earth her goodly roots. <br />There let our banners droop and flow, <br />The stars uprise and fall; <br />Our roll of martyrs, sad and slow, <br />Let sighing breezes call. <br />Their names let hands of horn and tan <br />And rough-shod feet applaud, <br />Who died to make the slave a man, <br />And link with toil reward. <br />There let the common heart keep time <br />To such an anthem sung <br />As never swelled on poet's rhyme, <br />Or thrilled on singer's tongue. <br />Song of our burden and relief, <br />Of peace and long annoy; <br />The passion of our mighty grief <br />And our exceeding joy! <br />A song of praise to Him who filled <br />The harvests sown in years, <br />And gave each field a double yield <br />To feed our battle-years! <br />A song of faith that trusts the end <br />To match the good begun, <br />Nor doubts the power of Love to blend <br />The hearts of men as one!<br /><br />John Greenleaf Whittier<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-peace-autumn/
