III. O SOLITUDE! if I must with thee dwell, In flowery slopes, its river's crystal swell, May seem a span; let me thy vigils keep 'Mongst boughs pavilion'd, where the deer's swift leap Startles the wild bee from the foxglove bell. But though I'll gladly trace these scenes with thee, Yet the sweet converse of an innocent mind, Whose words are images of thoughts refined, Is my soul's pleasure; and it sure must be Almost the highest bliss of human-kind, When to thy haunts two kindred spirits flee. IV. many How bards gild the lapses of time! Of my delighted fancy,-I could brood Do they occasion; 'tis a pleasing chime. So the unnumber'd sounds that evening store; Make pleasing music, and not wild uproar. V. TO A FRIEND WHO SENT ME SOME ROSES. As late I rambled in the happy fields, What time the skylark shakes the tremulous dew From his lush clover covert;-when anew Adventurous knights take up their dinted shields; I saw the sweetest flower wild nature yields, A fresh-blown musk-rose; 'twas the first that threw Its sweets upon the summer: graceful it grew As is the wand that queen Titania wields. And, as I feasted on its fragrancy, I thought the garden-rose it far excell'd; But when, O Wells! thy roses came to me, My sense with their deliciousness was spell'd: Soft voices had they, that with tender plea Whisper'd of peace, and truth, and friendliness unquell'd. VI. TO G. A. W. NYMPH of the downward smile and sidelong glance! Of sober thought? Or when starting away, And so remain, because thou listenest: I shall as soon pronounce which Grace more neatly VII. WRITTEN ON THE DAY THAT MR. LEIGH HUNT LEFT PRISON WHAT though, for showing truth to flatter'd state, |