From The Bibelot, A Reprint of Poetry and Prose for Book Lovers, chosen in part from scarce editions and sources not generally known, Volume X, Testimonial Edition, Edited and Originally Published by Thomas B. Mosher, Portland, Maine; Wm. Wise & Co.; New York; 1904; p. 277.
STRONG angel of the peace of God,
Not wholly undivined thy mien;
Along the weary path I trod
Thou hast been with me though unseen.
My hopes have been a mad turmoil,
A clutch and conflict all my life,
The very craft I loved a toil,
And love itself a seed of strife.
But sometimes in a sudden hour
I have been great with Godlike calm,
As if thy tranquil world of power
Flowed in about me like a psalm.
And peace has fallen on my face,
And stillness on my struggling breath;
And, living, I have known a space
The hush and mastery of Death.
Stretch out thy hand upon me, thou
Who comest as the still night comes!
I have not flinched at buffets; now
Let Strife go by, with all his drums.