Sweet are the ways of death to weary feet, Calm are the shades of men. The phantom fears no tyrant in his seat, The slave is master then. Love is abolished; well, that this is so; We know him best as Pain. The gods are all cast out, and let them go; Who ever found them gain? Ready to hurt and slow to succour these; So, while thou breathest, pray. But in the sepulchre all flesh has peace; Their hand is put away. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A DISCRETE LOVE POEM by JAMES GALVIN BROTHER AND SISTER by MARY ANN EVANS JAZZONIA by JAMES LANGSTON HUGHES MACGREGOR'S GATHERING by WALTER SCOTT TO THE LARK by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THE UNIVERSAL MOTHER by SABINE BARING-GOULD TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 3. AFTER CIVILISATION by EDWARD CARPENTER |