Peace

Sweet Peace, where dost thou dwell? I humbly crave,

                    Let me once know.

    I sought thee in a secret cave,

            And ask'd, if Peace were there,

A hollow winde did seem to answer, No:

                    Go seek elsewhere.

I did; and going did a rainbow note:

                    Surely, thought I,

    This is the lace of Peace's coat:

            I will search out the matter.

But while I lookt the clouds immediately

                    Did break and scatter.

Then went I to a garden and did spy

                    A gallant flower,

    The crown Imperiall: Sure, said I,

            Peace at the root must dwell.

But when I digg'd, I saw a worm devoure

                    What show'd so well.

At length I met a rev'rend good old man;

                    Whom when for Peace

    I did demand, he thus began:

            There was a Prince of old

At Salem dwelt, who liv'd with good increase

                    Of flock and fold.

He sweetly lived; yet sweetnesse did not save

                    His life from foes.

    But after death out of his grave

            There sprang twelve stalks of wheat:

Which many wondring at, got some of those

                    To plant and set.

It prosper'd strangely, and did soon disperse

                    Through all the earth:

    For they that taste it do rehearse,

            That vertue lies therein;

A secret vertue, bringing peace and mirth

                    By flight of sinne.

Take of this grain, which in my garden grows,

                    And grows for you;

    Make bread of it: and that repose

            And peace, which ev'ry where

With so much earnestnesse you do pursue

                    Is onely there.