Rain, midnight rain, nothing but the wild rain
On this bleak hut, and solitude, and me
Remembering again that I shall die
And neither hear the rain nor give it thanks
For washing me cleaner than I have been
Since I was born into this solitude.
Blessed are the dead that the rain rains upon:
But here I pray that none whom once I loved
Is dying tonight or lying still awake
This is an unsettling self-depricating comment on the poet’s character, implying a sense of unworthiness or emotional isolation; an inability to relate to those around him. Note that the word “solitude” appears in line two and also “solitary” in line ten.
Rain