Venite Descendamus
Let be at last; give over words and sighing, Vainly were all things said: Better at last to find a place for lying, Only dead. Silence were best, with songs and sighing over; Now be the music mute; Now let the dead, red leaves of autumn cover A vain lute. Silence is best: for ever and for ever, We will go down and sleep, Somewhere beyond her ken, where she need never Come to weep. Let be at last: colder she grows and colder; Sleep and the night were best; Lying at last where we cannot behold her, We may rest.
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"Let be at last; give over words and sighing,..."
"Venite Descendamus" is a quintessential example of Ernest Christopher Dowson's signature style... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...