THE
LONELY
WALK
To
W.
S.
B.
WHEN
the
grey
evening
spreads
a
calm
around
,
Tell
me
,
has
thy
bewilder'd
fancy
sought
,
Retir'd
in
some
sequestered
spot
of
ground
,
Rest
,
from
the
labour
of
eternal
thought
?
When
,
wrapt
in
self
,
the
soul
enjoys
repose
,
The
wearied
brain
resigns
its
fervent
heat
,
In
dream-like
musing
every
care
we
lose
,
And
wind
our
way
with
slowly-moving
feet
,
Oft
,
to
indulge
the
thought-exploded
sigh
,
When
,
slowly
wandering
at
the
close
of
day
,
Light
emanations
from
th'abstracted
eye
,
With
transient
beauty
in
the
sun-beams
play
,
Thy
sister
seeks
the
solitary
shade
,
Her
mind
inhaling
the
aërial
gloom
,
Sees
,
not
observing
,
the
fair
landscape
fade
,
And
sullen
mist
usurping
day-light's
room
.
Not
her's
the
feelings
which
regret
inspires
,
When
sorrows
keen
have
made
the
spirits
low
;
Adversity
has
damp'd
the
youthful
fires
,
And
all
the
tears
that
fall
are
tears
of
woe
.
Ah
no
!
possessing
every
social
bliss
,
I
cannot
,
will
not
at
my
fate
repine
;
Or
ask
for
happiness
excelling
this
,
When
such
a
world
of
treasures
now
are
mine
!
And
,
when
the
melancholy
grove
I
seek
,
Scarce
can
my
palpitating
heart
controul
,
While
silent
tears
are
trembling
on
my
cheek
,
The
flood
of
pleasure
swelling
in
my
soul
.
But
soon
my
too-elated
thoughts
are
calm
,
The
tumults
of
the
mental
chaos
cease
;
A
soft
oblivion
the
rais'd
senses
charm
,
And
lull
to
,
a
reflecting
soothing
peace
.
Hail
,
sweet
entrancements
of
the
languid
mind
!
Whose
calm
reposes
restless
worldlings
scorn
;
But
from
whose
aid
recruited
strength
we
find
,
And
waken
,
lively
as
the
bird
of
morn
.
And
thou
,
lov'd
boy
,
in
whose
congenial
breast
,
I
doubt
not
but
those
sentiments
reside
;
For
we
,
our
thoughts
,
our
actions
have
confest
,
As
much
in
hearts
as
persons
are
allied
;
Hail
thou
,
my
brother
!
may
thy
steps
be
led
By
heav'nly
wisdom
through
this
world
of
care
,
And
gain
the
realms
for
which
our
Saviour
bled
!
Nor
pain
,
nor
lassitude
await
us
there
.
October
13
,
1794.