Here you will find the Poem Isolation. of poet Robert Crawford
He came by unknown ways, and stood At evening in the fading wood, Which when the glowing hills were gone Would as in a dream murmur on, As he beside his camp-fire's glare Sat as if in a vision there, And felt the silence like a thing In which his soul was functioning. He was a poet maybe who The world's impression dreamy drew From his own heart in that strange air, Like one who had been everywhere And with the stars and fire-lit trees Did blend a thousand memories, Making that speck of light his home Until the dewy dawn should come. He well had seemed a phantom at Some mystic work as lone he sat Within his ring of charméd light, Who might step out into the night, And in a mischief-making mood Perturb the starry solitude Until his fire burnt out, and then Might creep back to his camp again, And wrapped within his blanket be A thought-deserted entity.
