User:Stu.W UK/sandbox

I am – yet what I am, none cares or knows; My friends forsake me like a memory lost: - I am the self-consumer of my woes; - They rise and vanish in oblivion’s host, Like shadows in love’s frenzied stifled throes: - And yet I am, and live - like vapours tost Into the nothingness of scorn and noise, - Into the living sea of waking dreams, Where there is neither sense of life or joys, But the vast shipwreck of my lifes esteems; Even the dearest, that I love the best Are strange – nay, rather stranger than the rest. I long for scenes, where man hath never trod A place where woman never smiled or wept There to abide with my Creator, God; And to sleep as I in childhood, sweetly slept, Untroubling, and untroubled where I lie, The grass below - above the vaulted sky.