First World War Poetry Digital Archive

Roundel (Vera speaks)


I walk alone, although the way is long, And with gaunt briars and nettles overgrown; Though little feet are frail, in purpose strong I walk alone.

Around me press unknowing and unknown In lampless longing the insensate throng, See but the shadow that my star has thrown.

Across the sundering sees my heart's wild song Wakes in your joy for my joy, moan for moan. What if, when Life on Love can wreak no wrong, I walk alone?

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