CALM is all nature as a resting wheel. The kine are couched upon the dewy grass; The horse alone, seen dimly as I pass, Is cropping audibly his later meal: Dark is the ground; a slumber seems to steal O'er vale, and mountain, and the starless sky. Now, in this blank of things, a harmony, Home-felt, and home-created, comes to heal That grief for which the senses still supply Fresh food; for only then, when memory Is hushed, am I at rest. My Friends! restrain Those busy cares that would allay my pain; Oh! leave me to myself, nor let me feel The officious touch that makes me droop again. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SESTINA: 1. OF THE LADY PIETRA DEGLI SCROVIGNI by DANTE ALIGHIERI THE DORCHESTER GIANT by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES BROTHERS by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON THE RUBAIYAT, 1879 EDITION: 13 by OMAR KHAYYAM THE ANT-HEAP by ARTHUR CHRISTOPHER BENSON |