POETRY: A Magazine of Verse
ALONE
Ah, never in all my life
Have I ever fled away
From the loneliness that follows
My spirit night and day!
Though I fly to the dearest face,
It follows without rest—
To the kind heart of love,
And the beloved breast.
Though I walk amid the crowd,
Still I walk apart;
Alone, alone I lie
Even at the loved one's heart.
SONG AT NIGHT
Under your window deep in the heart of the night,
Something is crying under the starry sky,
Between the going night and the growing light.
It is I, it is I.
Under your window cries without quiet or rest
Something that cries with the hurrying winds that cry
For the You that sleeps deep in the heart of your breast.
It is I, it is I.
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