Alone

Lying, thinking Last night How to find my soul a home Where water is not thirsty And bread loaf is not stone I came up with one thing And I don't believe I'm wrong That nobody, But nobody Can make it out here alone.

Always

I am not jealous of what came before me. Come with a man on your shoulders, come with a hundred men in your hair, come with a thousand men between your breasts and your feet, come like a river full of drowned men which flows down to the wild sea,

Alone

I am alone, in spite of love, In spite of all I take and give— In spite of all your tenderness, Sometimes I am not glad to live. I am alone, as though I stood On the highest peak of the tired gray world, About me only swirling snow, Above me, endless space unfurled;

Bereft

Where had I heard this wind before Change like this to a deeper roar? What would it take my standing there for, Holding open a restive door, Looking down hill to a frothy shore? Summer was past and the day was past. Sombre clouds in the west were massed. Out on the porch's sagging floor, Leaves got up in a coil and hissed, Blindly struck at my knee and missed.

At Last She Comes

AT last she comes, O never more In this dear patience of my pain To leave me lonely as before, Or leave my soul alone again.

Alone

In contact, lo! the flint and steel, By sharp and flame, the thought reveal That he the metal, she the stone, Had cherished secretly alone.

A Thought For A Lonely Death-Bed

If God compel thee to this destiny, To die alone, with none beside thy bed To ruffle round with sobs thy last word said And mark with tears the pulses ebb from thee,- Pray then alone, ' O Christ, come tenderly! By thy forsaken Sonship in the red Drear wine-press,- by the wilderness out-spread,- And the lone garden where thine agony Fell bloody from thy brow,- by all of those Permitted desolations, comfort mine!

The Wise

Dead men are wisest, for they know How far the roots of flowers go, How long a seed must rot to grow. Dead men alone bear frost and rain On throbless heart and heatless brain, And feel no stir of joy or pain. Dead men alone are satiate; They sleep and dream and have no weight,

From Sunset To Star Rise

Go from me, summer friends, and tarry not: I am no summer friend, but wintry cold, A silly sheep benighted from the fold, A sluggard with a thorn-choked garden plot. Take counsel, sever from my lot your lot, Dwell in your pleasant places, hoard your gold; Lest you with me should shiver on the wold, Athirst and hungering on a barren spot. For I have hedged me with a thorny hedge, I live alone, I look to die alone:

So Alone!

So alone in my bed Alone listening to nightly whispers Alone in my thoughts Alone standing in court Alone I stand and fight Alone I pray for rainbow lights Alone in the morning I awake Alone I celebrate my joys Alone I cry out my sadness

Alone

The abode of the nightingale is bare, Flowered frost congeals in the gelid air, The fox howls from his frozen lair: Alas, my loved one is gone, I am alone: It is winter. Once the pink cast a winy smell, The wild bee hung in the hyacinth bell, Light in effulgence of beauty fell:

Without You

My Pillow gazes upon me at night Empty as a gravestone; I never thought it would be so bitter To be alone, Not to lie down asleep in your hair. I lie alone in a silent house, The hanging lamp darkened, And gently stretch out my hands To gather in yours,

I Am Not Alone

The night, it is deserted from the mountains to the sea. But I, the one who rocks you, I am not alone! The sky, it is deserted for the moon falls to the sea. But I, the one who holds you, I am not alone!

At Night On The High Seas

At night, when the sea cradles me And the pale star gleam Lies down on its broad waves, Then I free myself wholly From all activity and all the love And stand silent and breathe purely, Alone, alone cradled by the sea That lies there, cold and silent, with a thousand lights. Then I have to think of my friends And my gaze sinks into their gazes

Teaching Xviii

Then said a teacher, 'Speak to us of Teaching.' And he said: No man can reveal to you aught but that which already lies half asleep in the dawning of our knowledge. The teacher who walks in the shadow of the temple, among his followers, gives not of his wisdom but rather of his faith and his lovingness. If he is indeed wise he does not bid you enter the house of wisdom, but rather leads you to the threshold of your own mind.

The Lonely Soul

The lonely soul wanders Alone in the walks of life No other soul as his companion The lonely soul wanders Alone in the daybreak He does his duties In the walks of life The lonely soul wanders

Alone On Sea

Alone i lay on a wooden raft Alone i stay in the dark Alone i pray to survive Alone i may not survive Alone i look out the sea Alone i wake up on the sea Alone i seek out for help Alone i may not survive

Crowds

It is not given to every man to take a bath of multitude; enjoying a crowd is an art; and only he can relish a debauch of vitality at the expense of the human species, on whom, in his cradle, a fairy has bestowed the love of masks and masquerading, the hate of home, and the passion for roaming. Multitude, solitude: identical terms, and interchangeable by the active and fertile poet. The man who is unable to people his solitude is equally unable to be alone in a bustling crowd. The poet enjoys the incomparable privilege of being able to be himself of someone else, as he chooses. Like those wandering souls who go looking for a body, he enters as he likes into each man's personality. For him alone everything is vacant; and if certain places seem closed to him, it is only because in his eyes they are not worth visiting.

Mr Snowman

All alone, a snowman stands, staring out at the world. What a life! Short, cold, freezing really, rigidly waiting for the 'melting' feeling to arrive. The children have made him as comfortable as they can. A nice bright red check scarf, a carrot nose, which he can nibble on, if he gets a bit peckish! Nice black velvet hat, which he feels is worth having, cos it makes him feel important, and keeps his head warm! They usually build him a friend, someone he can chat to, but not this year.

Loneliness

Loneliness becomes a 'space' in time where, Nobody seems to speak to you, you are alone, Suspended, whilst time endlessly continues, And your alien existence turns your mind to stone. Will no one come to break the voice of silence, Will no one listen, do they ever know That you alone are calling in the darkness, Can they to you, some great compassion show.