Poems (Cary)/The Homeless

For works with similar titles, see The Homeless.
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THE HOMELESS.
As down on the wing of the raven, Or drops on the upas-tree lie,So darkness and blight are around me To-night, I can scarcely tell why!
Alone in the populous city! No hearth for my coming is warm,And the stars, the sweet stars, are all hidden Away in the cloud and the storm!
The thoughts of all things that are saddest, The phantoms unbidden that startFrom the ashes of hopes that have perished, Are with me to-night in my heart!
Alas! in this desolate sorrow, The moments are heavy and long;And the white-pinioned spirit of Fancy Is weary, and hushes her song.
One word of the commonest kindness Could make all around me seem brightAs birds in the haunts of the summer, Or lights in a village at night.
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