Poem Hunter
(5 December 1830 – 29 December 1894 / London)


THE irresponsive silence of the land,
   The irresponsive sounding of the sea,
   Speak both one message of one sense to me:--
Aloof, aloof, we stand aloof, so stand
Thou too aloof, bound with the flawless band
   Of inner solitude; we bind not thee;
   But who from thy self-chain shall set thee free?
What heart shall touch thy heart? What hand thy hand?
And I am sometimes proud and sometimes meek,
   And sometimes I remember days of old
When fellowship seem'd not so far to seek,
   And all the world and I seem'd much less cold,
   And at the rainbow's foot lay surely gold,
And hope felt strong, and life itself not weak.

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Comments (1)

Ishaq ka bhi kya dasturr hai... Tu jitne chhahe gum sahlau... Bas, aanchu tumhare hooo... Or, aankhe hamari ho.... -As