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 The peace that is for heaven, And shall be for the earth: The palace that re-echoes With festal song and mirth; The garden, breathing spices, The paradise on high; Grace beautified to glory, Unceasing minstrelsy. There nothing can be feeble, There none can ever mourn, There nothing is divided, There nothing can be torn: 'Tis fury, ill, and scandal, 'Tis peaceless peace below; Peace, endless, strifeless, ageless, The halls of Syon know. O happy, holy portion, Refection for the blest: True vision of true beauty, Sweet cure of all distrest! Strive, man, to win that glory; Toil, man, to gain that light; Send hope before to grasp it, Till hope be lost in sight: Till gives the portion Those blessed souls to fill, The insatiate, yet satiate, The full, yet craving still.