Here there is peace, cool peace, Upon these heights, beneath these trees; Almost the peace of sleep or death, To wearying brain, to labouring breath. Here there is rest at last, A sweet forgetting of the past; There is no future here, nor aught Save this soft healing pause of thought. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SPIRIT OF SHAKESPEARE: 1 by GEORGE MEREDITH THE CLOUDED SOUL by LAWRENCE ALMA-TADEMA PRAESTO by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN EPIGRAM ON BAD ROADS by ROBERT BURNS TO THE QUEENES MOST EXCELLENT MAJESTIE by ELIZABETH (TANFIELD) CARY |