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.
THE ROSE OF BATTLE
Rose of all Roses, Rose of all the World!
The tall thought-woven sails, that flap unfurle
Above the tide of hours, trouble the air,