Alone!—And yet the poet hath the sun,— And for his lonely gaze the stars are fair, And the sweet June-wind dallieth with his hair, And strange wild sea-shores hath his footing won. But ah! the sadness,—to be known of none Save of the cold-lipped gruesome bride, Despair! The weight of genius-thought alone to bear; Alone,—alone; till life and death be done. The poet hath the roses and the sky, But not the sympathy his spirit seeks. Is it a soul-delivering thing to lie Amid sea-poppies by grey winding creeks Or on the hills whereo'er the white mists fly,— Waiting the gold-winged word no woman speaks? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE GOODLY SONG by PAUL VERLAINE THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 82. HOARDED JOY by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 43 by ALFRED TENNYSON PREFATORY POEM TO MY BROTHER'S SONNETS by ALFRED TENNYSON HALVING IT WITH WITHER by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS FULFILLMENT by CLARIBEL WEEKS AVERY THE LAST MAN: RECOLLECTION OF EARLY LIFE by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |