141. SOLITUDE. Hail, awful scenes, that calm the troubled breast, Can passion's wildest uproar lay to rest, Shall never know the source whence real grandeur springs. The man to solitude accustom❜d long, -BEATTIE. Perceives in everything that lives, a tongue; He scans of every locomotive kind; Birds of all feather, beasts of every name, That serve mankind, or shun them, wild or tame; He spells them true by intuition's light, -CowPER. Solitude, though silent as light, is like the light, the mightiest of agencies, for solitude is essential to man. All men come into this world alone, all leave it alone. Solitude is the parent of reflection. I was never less alone than when by myself. -GIBBON. He was never less at leisure than when he was at leisure, nor less alone than when he was alone. -PUBLIUS SCIPIO. They are never alone that are accompanied by noble thoughts. -SIR P. SIDNEY. All mischief comes from our not being able to be alone; hence play, luxury, dissipation, wine, ignorancə, calumny, envy, forgetfulness of one's self and of God. -BRUYERE. Solitude shows us what we should be, Society shows us what we are. It is easy in the world to live after the world's opinion; it is easy in solitude to live after our own; but the great man is he who in the midst of the crowd keeps with perfect sweetness the independence of soli tude. -EMERSON. Lovely indeed art thou, O Solitude! And good and bad to thy calm refuge fly: Make good men better, and make bad men good. For, like those poisons whose fine quality But, drunk too oft, death-like arrest the blood; And Heaven's best purposes in life foregoes, Supposed to be written by Alexander Selkirk during his solitary abode on the island of Juan Fernandes. I am monarch of all I survey, My right there is none to dispute, O Solitude! where are the charms That sages have seen in thy face? I am out of humanity's reach, I must finish my journey alone, From Selections by Emily Taylor. The beasts that roam over the plain, Society, friendship, and love, Divinely bestow'd upon man, In the ways of religion and truth, Religion what treasure untold Resides in that heavenly word! More precious than silver and gold, Or all that this earth can afford. But the sound of the church-going bell, These valleys and rocks never heard, Ne'er sigh'd at the sound of a knell, Or smiled when a Sabbath appear'd. Ye winds that have made me your sport, Convey to this desolate shore, Some cordial endearing report Of a land I shall visit no more. My friends, do they now and then send A wish or a thought after me? Oh tell me I yet have a friend, Though a friend I am never to see. How fleet is the glance of the mind! Compar'd with the speed of its flight, The tempest itself lags behind, And the swift-winged arrows of light. When I think of my own native-land, In a moment I seem to be there; But alas recollection at hand Soon hurries me back to despair. But the sea-fowl is gone to her nest, And reconciles man to his lot. -COWPER. |