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MY PEACE.
My sorrows seem but small and brief,—
Soon softened into vague regretting;
I find a balm in every leaf,
Build ships on every wreck-strewn reef,
Then blush before this marble Grief,
Still unforgetting!

In time, all other woes grow old,
All other hearts some solace borrow;
The velvet leaves of spring unfold,
The autumn beards the grain with gold;
But my pale Peace, yet unconsoled,
Still keeps her sorrow!