Poems (Kimball)/His Peace

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HIS PEACE.
WHEN day and its cares are over  I draw my chamber blind, And under the night's sweet cover  All manner of comfort find.
Like doves to their windows flying  My thoughts frown their daily quest At the call of my heart replying  Return to their nightly rest.
And folding them all together  I hide them away from sight, Their wanderings hither and thither  Forgot in the quiet of night.
One, only one thought remaineth; It is born not of nature but grace, And upward the flight it taketh  Beyond the limits of space:
He only who changes never,  Can choose for my soul the best; Can quicken and crown the endeavor,— He only can give me rest.
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How mighty He is, I remember;  How measureless is His Love; And how in the heart's hushed chamber  His Peace may abide as a dove.
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