At Midnight Poem by Sara Teasdale
At Midnight
Rating: ★3.0
Now at last I have come to see what life is,
Nothing is ever ended, everything only begun,
And the brave victories that seem so splendid
Are never really won.
Even love that I built my spirit's house for,
Comes like a brooding and a baffled guest,
And music and men's praise and even laughter
Are not so good as rest.
Submitted by Venus
Monday, January 13, 2003
Topic(s) of this poem: house,laughter
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8/7/2026 7:46:40 AM # rel_20260806T081513Z_580e7f4
