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Home  »  An American Anthology, 1787–1900  »  144 The Hour of Peaceful Rest

Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900.

By William BinghamTappan

144 The Hour of Peaceful Rest

THERE is an hour of peaceful rest

To mourning wanderers given;

There is a joy for souls distrest,

A balm for every wounded breast,

’T is found alone in heaven.

There is a soft, a downy bed,

Far from these shades of even—

A couch for weary mortals spread,

Where they may rest the aching head,

And find repose, in heaven.

There is a home for weary souls

By sin and sorrow driven;

When tossed on life’s tempestuous shoals,

Where storms arise, and ocean rolls,

And all is drear but heaven.

There faith lifts up her cheerful eye,

To brighter prospects given;

And views the tempest passing by,

The evening shadows quickly fly,

And all serene in heaven.

There fragrant flowers immortal bloom,

And joys supreme are given;

There rays divine disperse the gloom:

Beyond the confines of the tomb

Appears the dawn of heaven.