Songs of Love and Rebellion/The companionless
THE COMPANIONLESS
There be souls born but to suffer, souls companionless, alone,
Spirits that the race refuses to acknowledge as its own;
Fated ones, predoomed to sorrow, in the wide lands without home,
Foreigners in every nation, strangers wheresoe'er they roam.
Mothered in the womb of morning, cradled in the arms of night,
One with forest, field and flower, moon and star and shade and light;
Lovers of all loveliness, red-hearted, with the dream afire,
Banished from Altruria to the Deserts of Desire.
Wanderers from other spheres, here on the Earthland gone astray,
Wingéd children of the heavens damned to dungeons made of clay—
In the midst of plenty, hungered—on the watersheds, athirst—
In the halls of pleasure, wearied—by their very beauty curst.
Sons of Life and Power striving Death and Weakness to evict,
Battling with the portless oceans on a crewless derelict;
Daring, strong and splendid captains, lost at last in seas unknown—
Kismet-caught—doom-driven—compassless—companionless—alone.