WE are so tired, my heart and I. <br />Of all things here beneath the sky <br />One only thing would please us best-- <br />Endless, unfathomable rest. <br /> <br />We are so tired; we ask no more <br />Than just to slip out by Life's door; <br />And leave behind the noisy rout <br />And everlasting turn about. <br /> <br />Once it seemed well to run on too <br />With her importunate, fevered crew, <br />And snatch amid the frantic strife <br />Some morsel from the board of life. <br /> <br />But we are tired. At Life's crude hands <br />We ask no gift she understands; <br />But kneel to him she hates to crave <br />The absolution of the grave.<br /><br />Mathilde Blind<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/rest-26/
