The Loss Of Love Poem by Countee Cullen

The Loss Of Love

Rating: 4.0


All through an empty place I go,
And find her not in any room;
The candles and the lamps I light
Go down before a wind of gloom.
Thick-spraddled lies the dust about,
A fit, sad place to write her name
Or draw her face the way she looked
That legendary night she came.

The old house crumbles bit by bit;
Each day I hear the ominous thud
That says another rent is there
For winds to pierce and storms to flood.

My orchards groan and sag with fruit;
Where, Indian-wise, the bees go round;
I let it rot upon the bough;
I eat what falls upon the ground.

The heavy cows go laboring
In agony with clotted teats;
My hands are slack; my blood is cold;
I marvel that my heart still beats.

I have no will to weep or sing,
No least desire to pray or curse;
The loss of love is a terrible thing;
They lie who say that death is worse.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Lea- Beima Dorestin 22 October 2017

Aww such a nice poem even though it's sad

16 3 Reply
Edward Kofi Louis 01 August 2017

The heavy cows go laboring! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.

5 7 Reply
Kevin Patrick 01 August 2017

A story often told, and often heartfelt, for what is more heartfelt then one broken. Cullen wrote well here.

9 3 Reply
Improvement By Choice 16 March 2018

This one is lovely. Thanks for the input.

6 3 Reply
Krystal Mclennan 22 March 2018

Really enjoyed reading it. loved it

6 3 Reply
Savita Tyagi 04 June 2022

The loss of love is a terrible thing; They lie who say that death is worse.

0 0 Reply
Sylvia Frances Chan 01 August 2021

Powerful poem full of melancholy.

0 1 Reply
Sylvia Frances Chan 01 August 2021

This poem is very touching, right from the hearet. Most deserving as The Modern Poem Of The DAy

0 1 Reply
Sylvia Frances Chan 01 August 2021

Most deserving as the Modern Poem Of The Day! I have enjoyed very much!

0 1 Reply
Rose Marie Juan-austin 01 August 2021

Deeply moving and poignant. Powerful closure lines.

0 0 Reply
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