There Is A Calm For

Dark-green And Gemm'd With Flowers Of Snow, With Close Uncrowded Branches Spread Not Proudly High, Nor Meanly Low, A Graceful Myrtle Rear'd Its Head.

Yet Nightly Pitch My Moving Tent, A Day's March Nearer Home.

When To The Cross I Turn My Eyes,and Rest On Calvary,o Lamb Of God, My Sacrifice,i Must Remember Thee.

Beyond This Vale Of Tears There Is A Life Above. Unmeasured By The Flight Of Years; And All That Life Is Love.

Prayer Moves The Arm Which Moves The World, And Brings Salvation Down.