William Butler Yeats

poems:

21

the rose of peace

If Michael, leader of God's host when Heaven and Hell are met, looked down on you from Heaven's door-post he would his deeds forget. Brooding no more upon God's wars in his divine homestead, he would go weave out of the stars a chaplet for your head. And all folk seeing him bow down, and white stars tell your praise, 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.

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