Diaries and Letters of Belle Edmondson
    

Rudderless

January, Monday 11, 1864

       Like a weary actor in a play,
       Like a phantom in a dream,
       Like a lost boat left to stray
       Rudderless adown the stream—
       This is what my life has grown,—
       Since thy false heart left me lone,—
       And I wonder sometimes when the laugh is loud,
       And I wonder at the faces of the crowd,
       And the strange fantastic measures that they tread,—
       Till I think at last, till I half believe I an dead.

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