I have come back to the lonely house tonight, Stumbling in the darkness over the obstacles there, I have gone over to the open window And have sat down in a chair. Am I quite alone? Somewhere across the world, Does some one pity me my gloomy dole? The pride and the sorrow of being solitary Weigh heavily to-night upon my soul. Yet I have given my heart. Perhaps too often! I have cheapened its favors, have too widely strewed. The women, the friends, who one time may have known it, Are right, perhaps, to feel no gratitude. If I have ill bestowed my vine's green fruit No one shall suffer for it in my stead; But I crave pardon of those who might be worthy Of the ripe grapes of the arbor over my head. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HENRY MOORE'S STATUE AT LINCOLN CENTER by KAREN SWENSON GREENWOOD CEMETERY by CRAMMOND KENNEDY EPITAPH FOR ONE WHO WOULD NOT BE BURIED IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY by ALEXANDER POPE COLIN CLOUTS COME HOME AGAIN by EDMUND SPENSER YOU LINGERING SPARSE LEAVES OF ME by WALT WHITMAN THE STRANGER by LAWRENCE ALMA-TADEMA |