Classic and Contemporary Poetry
LAST AND WORST, by FRANCES EKIN ALLISON First Line: Upon life's highway I was hastening, when Last Line: Your banner of despair. Subject(s): Despair; Grief; Sorrow; Sadness | ||||||||
UPON life's highway I was hastening, when I met a trouble grim, Whom I had often seen with other men, But I was far from him. He seized my arm, and with a sneering lip Looked o'er my happy past; With sinking heart I felt his bony grip Clutch tight and hold me fast. "You look," said he, "so happy and bright, That I have come to see Why other troubles miss you in their flight, And what you'll do with me." "And have you come to stay with me?" I cried, Hoping respite to win. "Yes, I have come to stay. Your world is wide; I'm crowded where I have been." I would not look him in the face, but turned To take him home with me To all my other troubles, who had spurned His hateful company. So he was "crowded," and with me would roam? I laughed with sullen glee; At arm's length took him up the steps of home Under my own roof-tree. And there I clutched his scrawny neck and thin, To thrust him in the room Where, locked and barred, I kept my troubles, in Seclusion's friendly gloom. Grimly he looked at me with eyes that burned: "You nothing know of me; The key on other troubles may be turned, But I -- am Poverty." Ah! soon I knew it was in vain, in vain, No locks avail for him; Nor double doors, nor thickly curtained pane Could make his presence dim. He wrote his name on all my threadbare ways, And in my shrinking air; He told the tale of useless shifts and stays I made against despair; He brushed the smile from off my sweet wife's face, And left an anxious frown; The fresh young joys that should my children grace His heavy foot trod down; He took my other troubles out, and walked With them the public street; Clad in my sacred sorrows, cheaply talked With all he chanced to meet. The hours he stretched upon the rack of days, The days to weeks of fears; The weeks were months, whose weary toilsome ways Stretched out through hopeless years. To-day I stooped to fan with eager strife A single hope which glowed, And 'mid the fading embers of my life A fitful warmth bestowed. Cheered by a spark, I turned with trembling limb Once more the strife to wage; But as I turned I saw my trouble grim Linking his arm with Age. Old age and poverty, -- here end the strife! And ye, remorseless pair, Drape on the last, dim milestone of my life Your banner of despair. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONOMA FIRE by JANE HIRSHFIELD AS THE SPARKS FLY UPWARDS by JOHN HOLLANDER WHAT GREAT GRIEF HAS MADE THE EMPRESS MUTE by JUNE JORDAN CHAMBER MUSIC: 19 by JAMES JOYCE DIRGE AT THE END OF THE WOODS by LEONIE ADAMS |
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