My heart within me stirred with a nameless trouble and dread
Of evil that should betide, and a voice in my bosom said:
“What pause from this weary toiling, what end to this endless strife?
The day bringeth naught but labor, and death follows hard upon life;
Ever I see the false one triumphing over the true,
The foul outbalance the fair, the many oppressed by the few.
Answer me, mortal master, after the battle is fought,
Six feet of earth for a couch, mayhap a stone, then — what?”
How could I answer my heart? When suddenly in my breast
There fell a hush as of a wind sinking at eve to rest;
The voice within me was stilled, and I felt its murmuring cease,
For somewhere out of infinity an angel had whispered “Peace.”