THE rain is sobbing on the wold The house is dark, the hearth is cold; And, stretching drear and ashy gray Beyond the cedars, lies the bay. The winds are moaning, as they pass Through tangled knots of autumn grass, -- A weary, dreary sound of woe, As if all joy were dead below. I sit alone, I wait in vain Some voice to lull this nameless pain; But from my neighbor's cottage near Come sounds of happy household cheer. My neighbor at his window stands, His youngest baby in his hands; The others seek his tender kiss, And one sweet woman crowns his bliss. I look upon the rainy wild: I have no wife, I have no child: There is no fire upon my hearth, And none to love me on the earth. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BAVARIAN GENTIANS by DAVID HERBERT LAWRENCE O, BREATHE NOT HIS NAME! by THOMAS MOORE THE NEW TIMON AND THE POETS by ALFRED TENNYSON GRIEF WAS SENT THEE FOR THY GOOD by THOMAS HAYNES BAYLY FOR THE MASTER'S SAKE by MINNIE MASON BEEBE |