Peace, be at peace, O thou my heaviness, Thou calledst for the evening, lo! 'tis here, The City wears a somber atmosphere That brings repose to some, to some distress. Now while the heedless throng make haste to press Where pleasure drives them, ruthless charioteer, To pluck the fruits of sick remorse and fear, Come thou with me, and leave their fretfulness. See how they hang from heaven's high balconies, The old lost years in faded garments dressed, And see Regret with faintly smiling mouth; And while the dying sun sinks in the west, Hear how, far off, Night walks with velvet tread, And her long robe trails all about the south. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THEY HAVEN'T HEARD THE WEST IS OVER by JAMES GALVIN THE WORD OF AN ENGINEER by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON WAITING IN THE CHILDREN'S HOSPITAL by CLARENCE MAJOR SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: DOW BRITT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS FROM THE SHORE by CARL SANDBURG MOTHER AND SON by KAREN SWENSON SIGNATURE OF LOVE by KAREN SWENSON |