Classic Poem

Oh God, give me, and I will never crave
An earthly joy; that peace which passeth words;
That peace whose smile can hover o'er the grave,
That peace whose inner wealth can shame all hoards
Of bliss terrestrial; that peace which affords
Pity to other's sorrow; and which feels,
E'en while it braves the edge of hostile swords,
And binds all human wounds, and while it kneels
E'en by the bed of death, a blessedness which heals.