Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, R. L. S., by EDMUND WILLIAM GOSSE



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R. L. S., by             Poet's Biography
First Line: Rest, oh thou restless angel, rest at last
Last Line: Or lictors shouldering high their sheaves of rods.
Subject(s): Stevenson, Robert Louis (1850-1894)


REST, oh thou restless angel, rest at last,
High on thy mountain peak that caps the waves;
Anguish no more thy delicate soul enslaves,
Dream-clouds no more thy slumber overcast.

Adventurous angel, fold thy wings! the vast
Pacific forest, with its architraves,
The stillness of its long liana'd naves,
Involves thee in a silence of times past.

Thou whom we loved, a child of sportive whim,
So fair to play with, comfort, thrill or chide,
Art grown as ancient as thine island gods,

As mystic as the menacing seraphim,
As grim as priests upon a red hill-side,
Or lictors shouldering high their sheaves of rods.





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