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I
Lonliness fills my waking hour,
My dreams, my life, my mind it devours,
Though it’s solitude I did desire,
Never did I imagine of it, I would tire.
II
Now as I sit here my heart lonely and cold,
My bones grown weary for now I am old,
But pity me not Great Works have I done,
And in that respect regrets I have none.
III
But with sorrow I am filled for what my work cost,
For Love and Friendship are what I have lost,
Neither have I known nor either have I sought,
None but my own friendship and now I have naught.
IV
But no tears shall I shed, for wonders I have seen,
In my years of travel and places I have been,
For Lord am I of all that I see,
I am The Poet and The Poet I’ll always be.
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