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Poem by William Butler Yeats The Rose of Peace If Michael, leader of God's host When Heaven and Hell are met, Looked down on you from Heaven's door-post He would his deeds forget. Brooding no more upon God's wars In his Divine homestead, He would go weave out of the stars A chaplet for your head. And all folk seeing him bow down, And white stars tell your praise, Would come at last to God's great town, Led on by gentle ways; And God would bid His warfare cease. Saying all things were well; And softly make a rosy peace, A peace of Heaven with Hell. William Butler Yeats William Butler Yeats's other poems:
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