Peace! Is it the dull Low ache that follows in the lull Of pain? Is it the sob Of waning senses when the startled throb Of passion's pulse has passed? Is it the glow Of sorrow's aftermath? Or yet the slow Benumbing torpor of too satisfied desire? Or is it hearth-stone vesper by the fire? Is it the Autumn fruitage, or the thrill Of promise in the opening bud of Spring? Is it the folded or the spreading wing? Or is it yet the pliant will To suffer and be still? Nay, it is none of these, I know. What is it thus I seek, turned to and fro? It flees me like the holy grail That vanished over hill and mere and vale. And faint as hymning of the angel forms which bore That jewel-cup forever on before, There comes a voice: "Let wandering cease; In thine own place, thy soul shall find its peace." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MOUNTAIN FARM by MALCOLM COWLEY ON THE SALE OF MY FARM by ROBERT FROST NOTES FOR THE FIRST LINE OF A SPANISH POEM by JAMES GALVIN DESIRE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TAPS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON |