THE PEACE OF GOD.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume III, Issue 135, 3 December 1875, Page 6

THE PEACE OF GOD.

Where gently falls tlie rays of light Upon the ark of gold, Where sacred symbols silently The Sacred Presence told — Upon the Holy Altar's step, Where priestly footsteps trod, There knelt a monk in. prayer — unseen, Save by the eye of God. " O Christ I" he cried, " I long have toiled To do Thy Blessed Will, And yet my heart is torn by doubts, My soul is restless still. And now, O Jesus ! lam old, And now I crave for rest — For rest and poace like his who leant His head on Thy dear Breast ! " Sweet Jesus ! I have tried to walk Where Thy blessed Feet have led ; And I have soothed Thy poor and sick, And watched the dying bed, And yet within my secret heart I cannot feel Thy grace ; O dear Redeemer of the world, Why hidest Thou Thy Face ?" And lo ! the mourner heard a voice — As soft as angel's tread ; It whispered sweetly in his soul, And to his spirit said : " Each merciful and kindly act That thou for Me hast done — Thy works, thy prayers, thy bitter tears, I know them all, My Son ! " And, as My Word is true, the deeds That thou hast done for Me Shall shine like stars within the crown That I will give to thee. But one thing have I sought of thee, Alas ! My son, in vain — True faith in Me, Who died that man Eternal life might gain. " For love of man, reproach and scorn, And sbripes and bonds I bore; For love of man, the crown of thorn My bleeding Temples wore : For love of man, My Sacred Heart Was pierced by bitter woe -, For love of man, on Calvary's Cross My streaming blood did flow. " For love of man, My Flesh I give In Sacramental Bread — Pour forth again the Saving Blood For all so freely shed. Then trust in Me, poor troubled heart, So tossed by fear and doubt ; Who comes in simple faith to Me I will not cast him out !" Then felt the monk that in his soul God's light had dawned at last, And all the clouds and all the mist For evermore were past. A wondrous peace — the peace of God — ■ Upon his spirit fell, O God ! this peace which Thoii dost give, Thy sons alone can tell. Dear Saviour, give our fearful souls This precious saving grace : Sweet Heart of Jesus, grant that we More faith in Thee may place ! Thus shall we find — O priceless gift ! The boon for which wo pray The joy the world can never give, And never take away. At break of dawn, the holy monks The vaulted chancel tread, And find — a smile upon his lips — Their brother cold and dead. With many a prayer, his wasted corse They lay beneath the sod ; And o'er his grave they write the words : " lie died al pzave with God !" — 'The Lamp.'