He Is Our Peace

O Heavenly Father, fold me close to Thee.

   I look up in Thy peaceful eyes to-night

   With naught in mine but an unreasoning fright,

And nestle like a bird that would be free.

Then, tired even of this, all wearily

   I shade my face from the too-dazzling light

   Upon Thy breast, and long if I but might

Forever in this haven cradled be.

Oh, what is there in the hot streets of life

   Whereon I wander that can give me peace,

Or where can I lie down, assured of rest?

Without I hear but noise and din of strife,

   The howl and wail and cries that never cease;

Within, the stillness of Thy holy breast.

William Byron Forbush

Index to poems in the collection by William Byron Forbush