AND after all the labour and the pains, After the heaping up of gold on gold, After success that locked your feet in chains, And left you with a heart so tired and old, Strange -- is it not? -- to find your chief desire Is what you might have had for nothing then -- The face of love beside a cottage fire And friendly laughter with your fellow-men? You were so rich when fools esteemed you poor. You ruled a field that kings could never buy; The glory of the sea was at your door; And all those quiet stars were in your sky. The nook of ferns below the breathless wood Where one poor book could unlock Paradise . . . What will you give us now for that lost good? Better forget. You cannot pay the price. You left them for the fame in which you trust. But youth, and hope -- did you forsake them, too? Courage! When dust at length returns to dust, In your last dreams they may come back to you. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN: THE SECOND DAY: LADY WENTWORTH by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE NOTHING REDEMPTION by BRUCE WEIGL SEADRIFT by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH ABBEY ASAROE by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM MERCHANTS FROM CATHAY by WILLIAM ROSE BENET |