Heaven having come, I'll not push on,
Or seek for struggle that would suit the stage.
If there's no combat where some angels sing,
If I would hear them I must quiet rage.
The storm on earth - I need not fear - goes on;
There will be tales to tell to whet my pen;
So in this hour let me see Your light
Beyond the darkness stirring blood in men.
Your home is peace to make this warfare dull.
Your silence makes the ocean's roar a whine.
My fascination for the battle dies.
I sigh to feel the firm defeat of time.
I don't forget outside the siren waits,
But for the time I hide within your gates.
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