Poems (Dorr)/At Rest
For works with similar titles, see At Rest.
AT REST
"'When Greek meets Greek,' you know," he sadly said. "'Then comes the tug of war.' I deem him great, And own him wise and good. Yet adverse fateHath made us enemies. If I were dead,And buried deep with grave-mould on my head, I still believe that, came he soon or late Where I was lying in my last estate,My dust would quiver at his lightest tread!" The slow years passed; and one fair summer night,When the low sun was reddening all the west, I saw two grave-mounds, where the grass was bright,Lying so near each other that the crest Of the same wave touched each with amber light.But, ah, dear hearts! how undisturbed their rest!