LET be at last; give over words and sighing, Vainly were all things said: Better at last to find a place for lying, Only dead. Silence were best, with songs and sighing over; Now be the music mute; Now let the dead, red leaves of autumn cover A vain lute. Silence is best: for ever and for ever, We will go down and sleep, Somewhere beyond her ken, where she need never Come to weep. Let be at last: colder she grows and colder; Sleep and the night were best; Lying at last where we can not behold her, We may rest. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WEIGHING THE BABY by ETHEL LYNN BEERS OUT OF THE OLD HOUSE, NANCY by WILLIAM MCKENDREE CARLETON WHEN THE GREAT GRAY SHIPS COME IN [AUGUST 20, 1898] by GUY WETMORE CARRYL AUTUMN MORNING AT CAMBRIDGE by FRANCES CROFTS DARWIN CORNFORD PEEWEE by ALFRED FRANCIS KREYMBORG ENGLAND IN 1819 by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY |