At Ease Poem by Walter de la Mare

At Ease

Rating: 2.6


Most wounds can Time repair;
But some are mortal -- these:
For a broken heart there is no balm,
No cure for a heart at ease --

At ease, but cold as stone,
Though the intellect spin on,
And the feat and practiced face may show
Nought of the life that is gone;

But smiles, as by habit taught;
And sighs, as by custom led;
And the soul within is safe from damnation,
Since it is dead.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Michael Hagwood 09 July 2018

He writes as if we were, walking side by side.

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Soman 23 March 2018

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