To Solitude.

SOLITUDE, celestial maid,
 Once again to thee I bow,
 And beneath the beechen shade
 Pour to thee my ardent vow. 

Mingled with the worldly crowd,
 Thee my heart has still ador'd;
 Nor could Pleasure's revels loud
 E'er to me one joy afford. 

Come then, with that form divine,
 Such as in Ierne's isle,
 While I heap'd thy rustic shrine,
 Oft you deign'd on me to smile. 

Come with modest, easy mien,
 Unconstrain'd by modish art,
 Blooming cheek, and eye serene,
 Tranquil mind, and spotless heart. 

Spread new verdure o'er the plain,
 Add fresh odours to the breeze;
 Crown the feather'd songster's strain
 With unwonted melodies. 

Lead me thro' yon waving grove,
 Where the thickest boughs unite;
 'Mid its mazes let me rove,
 Wrapt with thee from mortal sight. 

And from thy sequester'd cell
 Bring the sober train along,
 Who delight with thee to dwell,
 Shelter'd from the guilty throng:

Meditation, pensive fair,
 Deep immers'd in thought profound;
 Leisure, with unruffled air,
 Pacing careless o'er the ground:

Active Health, with ruddy face,
 Bounding thro' the woodlands wild;
 Beauty, with unstudied grace;
 Temperance, with carriage mild. 

Happy they who ne'er have flown
 From thy pure and gentle reign:
 Happier who, life's quicksands known,
 Rush to Peace and thee again. 

For them sweeter scents the rose,
 Clearer flows for them the stream;
 Richer tints the groves disclose,
 Brighter shines the morning beam. 

From each vain delusion freed,
 Passion's helpless slaves no more,
 They, while fairer views succeed,
 Smiling think on dangers o'er. 

Thus the slumberer wrapt in night
 Pines 'mid visions of distress —
 But with the returning light
 Wakes to real happiness.