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Poem by Alexander Anderson Aimless Longings I am full of an aimless longing As I wander about to-day; I turn from the light and shadow As they chase each other at play. I hear a wild bird calling— A lonely cry from the hill; And the haunting sense in my bosom, Grows deeper and lonelier still. What it can be I know not, I cannot read it aright; And I wander as men will wander That stray from the path in the night. Is it a sense of something That to-day still follows me; That out of my life has vanished, As a ship goes down at sea? Alexander Anderson Alexander Anderson's other poems: 1219 Views |
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