Night is o'er (this place), and the winds are still;
Jasmine and honeysuckle steep the air;
Softly the stars that are all Europe's fill
Her heaven-wide dark with radiancy fair;
That shadowed moon now waxing in the west
Stirs not a rumour in her tranquil seas;
Mysterious sleep has lulled her heart to rest,
Deep even as theirs beneath her churchyard trees.
Secure, serene; dumb now the night-hawk's threat;
The guns' low thunder drumming o'er the tide;
The anguish pulsing in her stricken side....
All is at peace....But, never, heart, forget:
For this her younges, best, and bravest died,
These bright dews once were mixed with bloody sweat.
"Peace" from Memory and Other Poems (1938)
(Link to this poem above in original form is here).
Thanks to our visiting New Zealand artist for the top photograph.
Today I am grateful for tasks completed.