Alone! yes, evermore alone—isolate each his way, Though hand is echoing to hand vain sophistries of clay, Within that veilèd, mystic place where bides the inmost soul, No twain shall pass while tides shall wax, nor changing seasons roll. Enisled, apart our pilgrimage, despite the arms that twine, Despite the fusing kiss that wields the magic charm of wine, Despite the interplay of sigh, the surge of sympathy, We tread in solitude remote, the trail of destiny! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PATH-FLOWER by OLIVE TILFORD DARGAN THE BOSTON EVENING TRANSCRIPT by THOMAS STEARNS ELIOT OH! SUSANNA! by STEPHEN COLLINS FOSTER TOMMY [ATKINS] by RUDYARD KIPLING THE SAD SHEPHERD by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS |