October 14, 2012
I just ran across a quote from it today in an old Bartlett’s Quotations volume – struck a chord with me, had to find the poem, here it is, reminds me a bit of Listen by Ogden Nash, which I also love:
“The Lost Tribe
How long, how long must I regret?
I never found my people yet;
I go about, but cannot find
The blood-relations of the mind
Through my little sphere I range,
And though I wither do not change;
Must not change a jot, lest they
Should not know me on my way.
Sometimes I think when I am dead
They will come about my bed,
For my people well do know
When to come and when to go.
I know not why I am alone,
Nor where my wandering tribe is gone,
But be they few, or be they far,
Would I were where my people are!”
And here is “Listen” by Ogden Nash:
There is a knocking in the skull,
An endless silent shout
Of something beating on a wall,
And crying, “Let me out!”
That solitary prisoner
Will never hear reply.
No comrade in eternity
Can hear the frantic cry.
No heart can share the terror
That haunts his monstrous dark.
The light that filters through the chinks
No other eye can mark.
When flesh is linked with eager flesh,
And words run warm and full,
I think that he is loneliest then,
The captive in the skull.
Caught in a mesh of living veins,
In cell of padded bone,
He loneliest is when he pretends
That he is not alone.
We’d free the incarcerate race of man
That such a doom endures
Could only you unlock my skull,
Or I creep into yours.Ogden Nash