Peace is perfect over
All the hills.
Scarce wilt thou discover
A breath, so still's
Every tree.
The woods are silent; birds have hushed their song.
Wait but thou; ere long
Peace comes to thee.
From Goethe
Robert Laurence Binyon
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Poem topics: breath, perfect, song, tree, wait, long, discover, silent, peace, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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