University of Virginia Library

No. III.—A PRAYER FOR REST.

Oh, I long to be at rest
From the struggle and the quest,
From the knavery and lies,
That beset me in disguise;
From the fever and the moil,
And the still recurring toil;
From the sorrow and regret,
From the agony and fret,
From the thirst and hunger pain,
That I feel, though I disdain;
From the mean and petty cares
Ever springing unawares,
To degrade me and enslave,
When my spirit is most brave.
Oh, I long to lay me down
In the green earth's bosom brown;
And to let the daisies grow
Fresh above me and my woe;
For I sicken at the guilt
Of the blood that 's daily spilt.
I am hopeless of my kind,
So degraded and so blind;
I am hopeless of the good
That's so little understood;
And I'm hopeless of the best,
And its nugatory quest;
Oh, I'm weary, very weary,
And I long to be at rest!