Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, AT LAST, by PHILIP BOURKE MARSTON


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

AT LAST, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Rest here, at last
Last Line: Thy starless night.


REST here, at last,
The long way overpast;
Rest here, at home, --
Thy race is run,
Thy dreary journey done,
Thy last peak clomb.

'Twixt birth and death,
What days of bitter breath
Were thine, alas!
Thy soul had sight
To see by day, by night,
Strange phantoms pass.

Thy restless heart
In few glad things had part,
But dwelt alone,
And night and day,
In the old way,
Made the old moan.

But here is rest
For aching brain and breast,
Deep rest, complete,
And nevermore,
Heart-weary and foot-sore,
Shall stray thy feet, --

Thy feet that went,
With such long discontent,
Their wonted beat
About thy room,
With its deep-seated gloom,
Or through the street.

Death gives them ease;
Death gives thy spirit peace;
Death lulls thee, quite.
One thing alone
Death leaves thee of thine own, --
Thy starless night.





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