Alone, alone!—the night is very silent,
Voiceless the stars are, and the pallid moon
Through the unknown sends down no tone, no utt'rance
To break the hush of midnight's solemn noon!
I stretch my arms toward the unanswering heavens,
'Tis empty space,—no form, no shape is here!
I call,—no answer to my cry is given,
Powerless my voice falls on Night's leaden ear!

Alone, alone!—I thought the dead were near me,—
The holy dead. E'en now, methought I heard
Low tones whose music long ago did cheer me,
That shadowy hands the parting branches stirred
'Twas but the night wind's mournful sigh above me,—
'Twas but the lonely streamlet's grieving tone,
No voice comes back from those who once did love me,—
No white hand beckons—I am all alone!

Alone?—not so! One sacred, unseen Presence
Fills the far depths, broods round me and above,
Enfolding all in His own Omnipresence,
Pervading all with His unstinted love,
In Him I live, and move, and have my being,
My soul's deep yearnings all to Him are known,
On me in kindness rests His eye all seeing,
His arm upholds me,—I am not alone!