University of Virginia Library

ADDRESS TO SOLITUDE.

An ODE.

Thy haunts, O Solitude! I love to rove,
Along thy lawns, beneath thy steady grove;
Among thy bowers to rear the humble cot,
And soft indulge my bosom's secret thought:
There, musing, ponder on the tale of woe,
And bid the tear of duteous sorrow flow.
As o'er the flow'ry dales I stray along
I'd catch the music of thy murm'ring streams.
I'd listen to thy songster's plaintive song
Which lulls the mind in fancy's fairy dreams;
The voice of noisy man not there is found,
The clam'rous discord of the town not there;
None but a rural and melodious sound,
In mournful music warbles thro' the air.
The brownish Thrush from yonder spray
Tunes his clear melifluous lay,
While dim evening spreads her veil
Philomela resumes her tale.
Quiv'ring flows the strain along,
Attentive sorrow lifts the song;
The sad enthusiast lends her ears,
Compos'd reflection calls her tears;
Dull melancholy soothes the wound
And glimm'ring visions hover round.
A dreary gloom surrounds the woodland plain,
Music and silence hold their tranquil reign;
A low'ring darkness wraps the rural scene,
The moon from high, reflects her ray serene.
Her trembling beams break thro' the spreading trees,
While parting moves the ev'ning's sighing breeze.
Now let me seek O Solitude thy shade!
A son of sorrow, and a son of woe!
To mourn the ravages which death hath made,
And to humanity a tear bestow.—
Delusive objects strike my sorrowing eyes,
Form'd by fair Luna's clear reflective light
Behind the bushes awful forms arise,
And fleeting phantoms glide before the sight,
Come, O gloomy solitary shade!
Thy vot'ry's anguish'd breast pervade—
Where nourish'd reigns the weeping thought
And mourns humanity's appointed lot;
Clothe all thy scenes in sorrow's dress,
Thy murm'ring streams let grief express;
Let visions thro' the thicket stray,
And superstition bend its way—
Let all thy plains congenially impart
And sigh responsive to a bleeding heart.