Cost

Don't pay too dear a price for peace,
For when it comes all efforts cease,
And lo, creation stands
With folded hands.

The Mighty Power that flung the stars
Out into space
Had hands made beautiful by scars
And head that did not own
In any time or zone
A resting place.

I gave my merry youth
And many of my manhood years
And cups and cups of tears
To learn this priceless truth:

Life, at its very best
Is deep unrest. 

From Acorns of Gold