Left Alone
By John Clare
Left in the world alone, Where nothing seems my own, And everything is weariness to me, 'T is a life without an end, 'T is a world without a friend, And everything is sorrowful I see. There's the crow upon the stack, And other birds all black, While bleak November's frowning wearily; And the black cloud's dropping rain, Till the floods hide half the plain, And everything is dreariness to me. The sun shines wan and pale, Chill blows the northern gale, And odd leaves shake and quiver on the tree, While I am left alone, Chilled as a mossy stone, And all the world is frowning over me.
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"Left in the world alone,..."
John Clare's contribution to classic is further solidified by the brilliance found in "Left Alone"... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...