There is no deeper grief than loneliness. Our sharpest at the death of friends
Is loneliness. Our agony of heart
When love has gone from us is loneliness.
The crying of a little child at night
In the big dark is crowding loneliness.
Slow death of woman on a Kansas farm;
The ache of those who think beyond their time;
Pain unassuaged of lives,—
All this is loneliness.
Oh, we who are one body of one soul!
Great soul of man born into social form!
Should we not suffer at dismemberment?
A finger torn from ; an eye
Having no cause to see when set alone.
Our separation is the agony
Of uses unfulfilled—of law;
The forces of all nature and push,
Crying for their accustomed avenues;
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