There is a solitude man never sought; But like a morning mist of silver-gray, It rises around on him on his busy way -- A vapor from the pools of deeper thought Condensing slowly. One is soothed to find A cloud about him which enchantment brings, A mist excluding transient earthly things, But soon a fog between him and mankind -- A fog of loneliness where none intrude Until it grows too great for human speech! Oh gentle, patient sons of solitude, What wisdom does your lofty silence teach To those without your sphere? Though one may yearn To break the spell, there can be no return. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PLOUGHER [OR PLOWER] by PADRAIC COLUM THE SOLDIER GOING TO THE FIELD by WILLIAM DAVENANT THE SONG OF THE BOW, FR. THE WHITE COMPANY by ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE ON SIR PALMES FAIRBORNE'S TOMB, IN WESTERMINSTER ABBEY by JOHN DRYDEN STONEWALL JACKSON; MORTALLY WOUNDED AT CHANCELLORSVILLE by HERMAN MELVILLE A SONG FOR THE SINGLE TABLE ON NEW YEAR'S DAY by ELIZABETH FRANCES AMHERST |