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Poem March 18, 1916 Issue

[Written for the Sentinel]

Peace

REMINGTON SCHUYLER

A GRASS-CLAD hill,
The open sky;
I surely know
That God is nigh.

I lie prone, resting
In the grass,
While clouds triumphant,
Stately, pass.

All dark'ning doubts
Have blown away;
I feel God's peace
With me today.

Omnipotent Love,
Boundless and high,
Is with me now,
For God is nigh.

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