Poems (Storrie)/Paths of Peace

by Agnes Louisa Storrie

Paths of Peace.

I know the ways are just as sweet
 With quaker-grass and clover,
I know the turf beneath my feet
 Is velvet, daisied over.
The She-oaks murmur overhead,
 The sweet bush scents assail me,
But something in my heart is dead,
 And hope and courage fail me.

The night has still her golden eyes,
 The sunset tints are splendid,
But in my heart a shadow lies,
 Its happiness is ended.
I know the world is just the same,
 Its beauty still undaunted,
I, only I, must take the blame
 That I am spectre-haunted.

For beauty lieth not apart,
 A thing of outward seeing,
But springeth up within the heart,
 Bound in its inmost being.
And peace, though she may range and roam
 Where'er her instinct leads her,
Will build a nest and make a home
 In every heart that needs her,

If there be room, for though they lie
 So soft you scarce can view them,
The portals must be wide and high
 That let her pinions through them.