 | The Collected Poems of Philip Bourke Marston |  |
EVEN FOR THEE.
Thy feet are weary, and thy strength is low;
Life's brightness is behind thee, and thy face
Is set against the darkness. For a space
Sad winds about thy path shall moaning blow,
And ghosts on either hand with thee shall go.
Great dread shall be upon thee, in those days, —
Dread of the darkness and the uncertain ways,
Such dread as man again may never know.
Life's brightness is behind thee, and thy face
Is set against the darkness. For a space
Sad winds about thy path shall moaning blow,
And ghosts on either hand with thee shall go.
Great dread shall be upon thee, in those days, —
Dread of the darkness and the uncertain ways,
Such dread as man again may never know.
But even for thee shall come at last the end,
And Death thy soul with slumber shall assuage.
No painful thought of altered or dead friend
Shall hurt thy heart again, nor impotent rage
At Fate's blind mysteries thy soul shall rend;
But rest shall be thy well-earned heritage.
And Death thy soul with slumber shall assuage.
No painful thought of altered or dead friend
Shall hurt thy heart again, nor impotent rage
At Fate's blind mysteries thy soul shall rend;
But rest shall be thy well-earned heritage.
| The Collected Poems of Philip Bourke Marston | |