Sometimes when I am long alone I wonder what is loneliness -- This silence like a deep bell's tone -- These moments, motionless? This hush above the nervous street? -- Removed as is the tree that stands, Hill-high, with burrowing root-feet And boughs like reaching hands. As in my blood I feel life press, Like sap into the frailest bough, I think if such is loneliness Then I am lonely now. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OLD THINGS by THOMAS T. BLEWETT FAMILIARITY by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN A NEW PILGRIMAGE: 36 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT OUT OF THE SILENCE by S. MINERVA BOYCE TO THE PRESIDENT OF MAGDALEN COLLEGE, OXFORD by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES |