THERE'S a lonely spot in the soul of man, <br /> More lone than the moonless sea; <br />And a gulf, that never a bridge can span, <br /> 'Tween him and all that be; <br />And the lips we kiss, and the eyes we love, <br />5 <br /> And the glory of golden hair, <br />Melt like the stars in the mist above, <br /> And shed no sunlight there. <br />There's a weary voice in the soul of man <br /> That cries for the great "to be," <br />10 <br />Like the moan of the worlds when time began, <br /> Or the wail of the wind by the sea; <br />And only the fall of the faded leaf <br /> And the sigh of the night in the trees, <br />Can utter the spirit's lonely grief <br />15 <br /> And the sorrow that no one sees.<br /><br />Frederick George Scott<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/isolation-37/
