PEACE AT THE GOAL.

From the soul of a man who was homeless

Came the deathless song of home.

And the praises of rest are chanted best

By those who are forced to roam.

In a time of fast and hunger,

We can talk over feasts divine;

But the banquet done, why, where is the one

Who can tell you the taste of the wine?

We think of the mountain’ s grandeur

As we walk in the heat afar —

But when we sit in the shadows of it

We think how at rest we are.

With the voice of the craving passions

We can picture a love to come.

But the heart once filled, lo, the voice is stilled,

And we stand in the silence — dumb.