But the fruit of God's love is peace. As Grundtvig, in the hymn above, sings of God's love, so in the sweet hymn given below he sings of God's peace. The translation is by Pastor Doving. Peace to soothe our bitter woes God in Christ on us bestows; Jesus wrought our peace with God Through His holy, precious blood; Peace in Him for sinners found Is the Gospel's joyful sound. Peace to us the church doth tell. 'Tis her welcome and farewell. Peace was our baptismal dower; Peace shall bless our dying hour. Peace be with you full and free Now and in eternity. In this peace Christians find refuge and rest. The peace of God protects our hearts Against the tempter's fiery darts. It is as sure when evening falls As when the golden morning calls. This peace our Savior wrought for us In agony upon the cross, And when He up to heaven soared, His peace He left us in His word. His word of peace new strength imparts Each day to faint and troubled hearts, And in His cup and at the font It stills our deepest need and want. This blessed peace our Lord will give To all who in His Spirit live. And even at their dying breath Its comfort breaks the sting of death. When Christ for us His peace hath won He asked for faith and faith alone. By faith and not by merits vain, Our hearts God's blessed peace obtain. Peace be with you, our Savior saith In answer to the word of faith. Whoso hath faith, shall find release And dwell in God's eternal peace. Grundtvig's hymns of comfort for the sick and dying rank with the finest ever written. He hates and fears death, hoping even that Christ may return before his own hour comes; but if He does not, he prays that the Savior will be right with him. Lord, when my final hours impend, Come in the person of a friend And take Thy place beside me, And talk to me as man to man Of where we soon shall meet again And all Thy joy betide me. For though he knows he cannot master the enemy alone, if the Savior is there-- Death is but the last pretender We with Christ as our defender Shall engage and put to flight. And His word will dispel all fear of the struggle: Like dew upon the meadow So falls the word of life On Christians in the shadow Of mortal's final strife. The first fruit of its blessing Is balm for fears distressing, So gone is like a breath The bitterness of death. Like sun, when night is falling, Sets stilly in the west While birds are softly calling Each other from their nest, So when its brief day closes That soul in peace reposes Which knows that Christ the Lord Is with it in His word.