Alone

The abode of the nightingale is bare,
Flowered frost congeals in the gelid air,
The fox howls from his frozen lair:
Alas, my loved one is gone,
I am alone:
It is winter.

Once the pink cast a winy smell,
The wild bee hung in the hyacinth bell,
Light in effulgence of beauty fell:
I am alone:
It is winter.

My candle a silent fire doth shed,
Starry Orion hunts o'erhead;
Come moth, come shadow, the world is dead:
Alas, my loved one is gone,
I am alone;
It is winter.

by Walter de la Mare

Comments (4)

Wonderful poem
V.v.v. nice poem
(Alone by Walter de la Mare.) **Death. Aloneness. Winter. A poem that mirrors life.
This poem is deep and he sees no good thing since his loved one is dead. Many ppl can relate to that I have at one point but it gets easier.