AND I shall lie alone at last, Clear of the stream that ran so fast, And feel the flower roots in my hair, And in my hands the roots of trees; Myself wrapt in the ungrudging peace That leaves no pain uncovered anywhere. What -- this hope left? this way not barred? This last best treasure without guard? This heaven free -- no prayers to pay? Fool -- are the Rulers of men asleep? Thou knowest what tears They bade thee weep, But, when peace comes, 'tis thou wilt sleep, not They. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPRINGTIDE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE DAY OF THE DEAD SOLDIERS; MARY 30, 1869 by EMMA LAZARUS THE GULF by KATHERINE MANSFIELD THE WALL STREET PIT, MAY, 1901 by EDWIN MARKHAM JOHN WILKES BOOTH AT THE FARM (JANUARY 12, 1848) by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |