Rebecca Thomas-Snell recommends William Sharp's poem, 'The White Peace'.
It lies not on the sunlit hill
Nor on the sunlit plain:
Nor ever on any running stream
Nor on the unclouded main --
But sometimes, through the Soul of Man,
Slow moving o'er his pain,
The moonlight of a perfect peace
Floods heart and brain.
Nor on the sunlit plain:
Nor ever on any running stream
Nor on the unclouded main --
But sometimes, through the Soul of Man,
Slow moving o'er his pain,
The moonlight of a perfect peace
Floods heart and brain.
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