SOLITUDE.
��DEEP solitude I sought. There was a dell Where woven shades shut out the eye of day, While, towering near, the rugged mountains made Dark back -ground 'gainst the sky.
Thither I went,
And bade my spirit taste that lonely fount, For which it long had thirsted 'mid the strife And fever of the world. I thought to be There without witness. But the violet's eye Looked up to greet me, the fresh wild-rose smiled, And the young pendent vine-flower kissed my cheek. There were glad voices too. The garrulous brook, Untiring, to the patient pebbles told Its history. Up came the singing breeze, And the broad leaves of the cool poplar spake Responsive, every one. Even busy life , Woke in that dell. The dexterous spider threw, From spray to spray, the silver-tissued snare. The thrifty ant, whose curving pincers pierced The rifled grain, toiled toward her citadel. To her sweet hive went forth the loaded bee,
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