Hills, wrapped in gray, standing along the west; Clouds, dimly lighted, gathering slowly; The star of peace at watch above the crest -- Oh, holy, holy, holy! We know, O Lord, so little what is best; Wingless, we move so lowly; But in thy calm all-knowledge let us rest -- Oh, holy, holy, holy! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ARMAGEDDON by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON CORTEGE by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON |