In Winter they battled with
the wind like the birds in the sky. In Autumn there was a sound of
leaves along the alleys and in the Gothic entries. In Spring there were
daisies in the Close, and daffodils nodding among the tombs, and on the
grey wall of the Archdeacon's garden a flaming peacock's tail of
Japanese quince.
Sometimes Mark was overwhelmed by the tyranny of the past in
Silchester; sometimes it seemed that nothing was worth while except at
the end of living to have one's effigy in stone upon the walls of the
Cathedral, and to rest there for ever with viewless eyes and cold
prayerful hands, oneself in harmony at last with all that had gone
before.
"Yet this peace is the peace of God," he told himself. "And I who am
privileged for a little time to share in it must carry away with me
enough to make a treasure of peace in my own heart, so that I can give
from that treasure to those who have never known peace."
_The peace of God, which passeth all understanding, keep your
hearts and minds in the knowledge and love of God, and of his Son
Jesus Christ our Lord; and the blessing of God Almighty, the
Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, be amongst you and remain with
you always._
When Mark heard these words sound from the altar far away in the golden
glooms of the Cathedral, it seemed to him that the building bowed like a
mighty couchant beast and fell asleep in the security of God's presence.
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