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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 wind 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 look'd, the clouds immediately

Did break and scatter.

Then went I to a garden, and did spy

A gallant flower,--

The Crown Imperial. Sure, said I,

Peace at the root must dwell.

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

What show'd so well.

At length I met a reverend good old man;

Whom when for Peace

I did demand, he thus began:

'There was a Prince of old

At Salem dwelt, Who lived with good increase

Of flock and fold.

'He sweetly lived; yet sweetness did not save

His life from foes.

But after death out of His grave

There sprang twelve stalks of wheat;

Which many wondering 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 virtue lies therein:

A secret virtue, bringing peace and mirth

By flight of sin.

'Take of this grain, which in my garden grows,

And grows for you:

Make bread of it; and that repose

And peace, which everywhere

With so much earnestness you do pursue,

Is only there.'

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