LET my spear lie down for the spider to weave its thread; May Peace dwell with me at home when I grow old. May I sing with garlands bound on my whitening head; Let the pillared shrine of Pallas Athene hold My buckler from Thrace, while in books I unfold Sweet words which the wise have said. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CONTRA MORTEM: THE GREAT DEATH by HAYDEN CARRUTH FOR THE BAPTIST by WILLIAM DRUMMOND OF HAWTHORNDEN LINCOLN by JOHN GOULD FLETCHER THE ROSE OF PEACE by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS A SUMMER NIGHT by MATTHEW ARNOLD |