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Songs of Loneliness

TEXTS
Hope
Sometimes when I'm lonely,
Don't know why
Keep thinking I won't be lonely
By and by. 
Langston Hughes (1902–1967) 


The Nurse's Lament
The flower is withered on the stem,
The fruit hath fallen from the bough.
None knows or thinks of them.
There's no child in the house now. 

The bird that sang sings not here,
Where is the bonny lark?
When shall I behold my dear?
The fire is out, the house dark. 
Mary Coleridge (1861–1907) 


The Little Maid 
When I was a little maid,
I waited on myself;
I washed my mother's teacups,
And set them on the shelf. 

I had a little garden
Most beautiful to see;
I wished that I had somebody
To play in it with me. 

Nurse was in mamma's room;
I knew her by her cap;
She held a lovely baby boy
Asleep upon her lap. 

As soon as he could learn to walk,
I led him by my side—
My brother and my playfellow,—
Until the day he died! 

Now I am an old maid,
I wait upon myself;
I only wipe one teacup,
And set it on the shelf. 
Anna Maria Wells (1795–1868) 


Triolet Against Sisters
Sisters are always drying their hair.
Locked into rooms alone
They pose at the mirror, shoulders bare,
Trying this way and that their hair,
Or fly importunate down the stair
To answer the telephone.
Sisters are always drying their hair,
Locked into rooms alone. 
Phyllis McGinley (1905–1978) 


Six Dukes went A-fishing
Six dukes went a-fishing
Down by yon sea-side.
One of them spied a dead body
Lain by the waterside. 

The one said to the other,
These words I heard them say:
"It's the Royal Duke of Grantham
That the tide has washed away." 

They took him up to Portsmouth,
To a place where he was known;
From there up to London,
To the place where he was born. 

They took out his bowels,
And stretched out his feet,
And they balmed his body
With roses so sweet. 

Six dukes stood before him,
Twelve raised him from the ground,
Nine lords followed after him
In their black mourning gown. 

Black was their mourning,
And white were their wands,
And so yellow were the flamboys
That they carried in their hands. 

He now lies betwixt two towers,
He now lies in cold clay,
And the Royal Queen of Grantham
Went weeping away. 
traditional (English)