I Am Like One That Has Sat Alone

I am like one that has sat alone All day on a level plain, With drooping head and trailing arms In a ceaseless pour of rain—

With drooping head and nerveless arms On the moorland flat and gray, Till the clouds were severed suddenly About the end of day;

And the purple fringes of the rain Rose o’er the scarlet west, And the birds sang in the soddened furze, And my heart sang in my breast.