Classic Poem

Am I left alone? Has the whole world gone
But the one small spot that I stand upon?
Was there nothing real? Were the hills a dream?
Did never the dew of the morning gleam?

I grope in the fog like a blinded man
Who has missed his way. I have lost the plan
Of the world I knew. O where, I pray,
Are the fields I walked in yesterday?

Out there at morn, on a bough, low-hung,
An oriole's nest, in the breezes swung;
I turn my eyes to the self-same spot,
But the bough and the bird and the nest are not.

Were the damask rose and ivy green
But phantoms cast on a phantom screen?
Were the tinted shells on the sunlit shore
What rainbows are when the storms are o'er?

And the friends I loved — have I lost them all?
In the fog's assault did their castles fall?
I send their names with a lonesome cry
Through a cold gray wall, but there's no reply.

Am I left alone? Has the whole world gone
But the one small spot that I stand upon?
Was there nothing real? Were the hills a dream?
Did never the dew of the morning gleam?

I grope in the fog like a blinded man
Who has missed his way. I have lost the plan
Of the world I knew. O where, I pray,
Are the fields I walked in yesterday?

Out there at morn, on a bough, low-hung,
An oriole's nest, in the breezes swung;
I turn my eyes to the self-same spot,
But the bough and the bird and the nest are not.

Were the damask rose and ivy green
But phantoms cast on a phantom screen?
Were the tinted shells on the sunlit shore
What rainbows are when the storms are o'er?

And the friends I loved — have I lost them all?
In the fog's assault did their castles fall?
I send their names with a lonesome cry
Through a cold gray wall, but there's no reply.