Consolation by David Park Barnitz — Read

Among all sorrows that my heart hath known, Among all sorrows that my spirit keep Forever buried 'neath their mountains steep, Standeth one consolation, one alone.

I know that earth shall be for death a throne, And evermore within their burials deep The banded nations of the earth shall sleep, Sunken in sepulchres of sculptur'd stone.

Then all the world shall be a quietness:

Dead women beautiful with their delights;

All they that had such striving and distress, And endless weariness in all the lands, White faces, eager heart-strings, soiled hands;

And peace shall hold the valleys and the heights.