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“The Lost Tribe
How long, how long must I regret?
I never found my people yet;
I go about, but cannot find
The blood-relations of the mind
Through my little sphere I range,
And though I wither do not change;
Must not change a jot, lest they
Should not know me on my way.
Sometimes I think when I am dead
They will come about my bed,
For my people well do know
When to come and when to go.
I know not why I am alone,
Nor where my wandering tribe is gone,
But be they few, or be they far,
Would I were where my people are!”
―
How long, how long must I regret?
I never found my people yet;
I go about, but cannot find
The blood-relations of the mind
Through my little sphere I range,
And though I wither do not change;
Must not change a jot, lest they
Should not know me on my way.
Sometimes I think when I am dead
They will come about my bed,
For my people well do know
When to come and when to go.
I know not why I am alone,
Nor where my wandering tribe is gone,
But be they few, or be they far,
Would I were where my people are!”
―
“I gather up my loves, and keep them all warm”
― Collected Poems
― Collected Poems
“Solitary is our place, the castle in the sea,
And I muse on those I have loved, and on those who have loved me.”
― Collected Poems
And I muse on those I have loved, and on those who have loved me.”
― Collected Poems