Alone

by John Hall Wheelock

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 belovèd breast. Though I walk amid the crowd,   Still I walk apart; Alone, alone I lie   Even at the loved one’s heart.

More poems by John Hall Wheelock

All poems by John Hall Wheelock →