THE ROSE OF PEACE
 
 IF Michael, leader of God's host
 When Heaven and Hell are met,
 Looked down on you from Heaven's door-post
 He would his deeds forget.
 Brooding no more upon God's wars
 In his divine homestead,
 He would go weave out of the stars
 A chaplet for your head.
 And all folk seeing him bow down,
 And white stars tell your praise,
 Would come at last to God's great town,
 Led on by gentle ways;
 And God would bid His warfare cease,
 Saying all things were well;
 And softly make a rosy peace,
 A peace of Heaven with Hell.