Peace

Sweet Peace, where dost thou dwell?

I humbly crave,                    Let me once know.    I sought thee in a secret cave,            And ask'd, if Peace were there,

A hollow winde did seem to answer,

No:                    Go seek elsewhere.

I did; and going did a rainbow note:                    Surely, thought I,    This is the lace of Peace's coat:            I will search out the matter.

But while I lookt the clouds immediately                    Did break and scatter.

Then went I to a garden and did spy                    A gallant flower,    The crown Imperiall:

Sure, said I,            Peace at the root must dwell.

But when I digg'd,

I saw a worm devoure                    What show'd so well.

At length I met a rev'rend good old man;                    Whom when for Peace    I did demand, he thus began:            There was a Prince of

At Salem dwelt, who liv'd with good increase                    Of flock and fold.

He sweetly lived; yet sweetnesse did not save                    His life from foes.    But after death out of his grave            There sprang twelve stalks of wheat:

Which many wondring at, got some of those                    To plant and set.

It prosper'd strangely, and did soon disperse                    Through all the earth:    For they that taste it do rehearse,            That vertue lies therein;

A secret vertue, bringing peace and mirth                    By flight of sinne.

Take of this grain, which in my garden grows,                    And grows for you;    Make bread of it: and that repose            And peace, which ev'ry

With so much earnestnesse you do pursue                    Is onely there.