Page:Howells, Stops of Various Quills, 1895 027.jpg

From Wikisource
Jump to navigation Jump to search
This page has been validated.

SOLITUDE

A

H, you cannot befriend me, with all your love's tender persistence!
In your arms' pitying clasp sole and remote I remain,
Rapt as far from help as the last star's measureless distance,
Under the spell of our life's innermost mystery, Pain.