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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=511232" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Peace</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=511232" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Now, God be thanked Who has watched us with His hour, <br>And caught our youth, and wakened us from sleeping, <br>With hand made sure, clear eye, and sharpened power, <br>To turn, as swimmers into cleanness leaping, <br>Glad from a world grown old and cold and weary, <br>Leave the sick hearts that honour could not move, <br>And half-men, and their dirty songs and dreary, <br>And all the little emptiness of love! </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=511232" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Oh! we, who have known shame, we have found release there, <br>Where there's no ill, no grief, but sleep has mending, <br>Naught broken save this body, lost but breath; <br>Nothing to shake the laughing heart's long peace there <br>But only agony, and that has ending; <br>And the worst friend and enemy is but Death.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Rupert+Brooke">Rupert Brooke</a></strong></div>