I am yet what I am none cares or knows
My friends forsake me like a memory lost
I am the self-consumer of my woes
They rise and vanish in oblivion’s host
Like shadows in love’s frenzied stifled throes
And yet I am and live like vapours tost
Into the nothingness of scorn and noise
Into the living sea of waking dreams
Where there is neither sense of life or joys
But the vast shipwreck of my life’s esteems
Even the dearest that I love the best
Are strange nay rather stranger than the rest
I long for scenes where man hath never trod
A place where woman never smiled or wept
There to abide with my Creator God
And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept
Untroubling and untroubled where I lie
The grass below above the vaulted sky
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