 | The Triangular Society |  |
103
A DEAR LONESOME DAY.
I have been searching through every room,
Careless of echoes, and silence, and gloom;
Upstairs and down, from the roof to the ground,
No human being is there to be found!
And I exult in an infinite glee,—
No living soul in the castle but me!
So, jubilate! I turn all the keys,—
World, do without me to-day, if you please!
Careless of echoes, and silence, and gloom;
Upstairs and down, from the roof to the ground,
No human being is there to be found!
And I exult in an infinite glee,—
No living soul in the castle but me!
So, jubilate! I turn all the keys,—
World, do without me to-day, if you please!
I am alone! I can laugh or can cry,
Nobody watches or questions me why,—
Nobody asks what the matter may be,—
Oh, how delightful it is to be free!
Talk of society's rarest delights,
Sociable mornings and talkative nights,—
Willingly, gladly, I fling them away,—
Give me myself and a dear lonesome day!
Nobody watches or questions me why,—
Nobody asks what the matter may be,—
Oh, how delightful it is to be free!
Talk of society's rarest delights,
Sociable mornings and talkative nights,—
Willingly, gladly, I fling them away,—
Give me myself and a dear lonesome day!
I am alone! I can do as I will,
Rest or be busy, be noisy or still,—
Read, sing, work, study, or string at my ease
Verses (don't criticise,—better than these.
These are the bubbles atop of the wine;
Just a relief for this gladness of mine,)
Jubilant, joyous, ecstatic, I say—
I am deliciously lonesome to-day!
Rest or be busy, be noisy or still,—
104
Verses (don't criticise,—better than these.
These are the bubbles atop of the wine;
Just a relief for this gladness of mine,)
Jubilant, joyous, ecstatic, I say—
I am deliciously lonesome to-day!
Tired of the friction of soul against soul,—
Who can endure it, and keep his own whole!
Tired of all argument, counsel and blame,
Tired of my yoke-fellows, tired of my name,
Tired of tame questions and tamer replies,
Figures, and faces, and voices, and eyes,—
Often and often I cordially pray,
Give me myself and a dear lonesome day!
Who can endure it, and keep his own whole!
Tired of all argument, counsel and blame,
Tired of my yoke-fellows, tired of my name,
Tired of tame questions and tamer replies,
Figures, and faces, and voices, and eyes,—
Often and often I cordially pray,
Give me myself and a dear lonesome day!
After so long being worried and whirled
In this bewildering cage of the world,
Like a poor squirrel made captive, I feel,—
Caught from the nut-woods and kept in a wheel.
Oh! the broad desert—the wide lonesome sea
Seems a desirable dwelling to me;
Not self-sufficient, but weary,—I say
Give me myself and a dear lonesome day!
In this bewildering cage of the world,
Like a poor squirrel made captive, I feel,—
Caught from the nut-woods and kept in a wheel.
Oh! the broad desert—the wide lonesome sea
Seems a desirable dwelling to me;
Not self-sufficient, but weary,—I say
Give me myself and a dear lonesome day!
Selkirk, ungrateful, irascible elf,
Growled, with a whole island all to himself,
And in the midst of his numberless farms,
Questioned of solitude, “Where are thy charms?”
Stupid old fellow he was, I declare,—
I could have answered, if I had been there;
And if I err not, with little ado,
I could have taught him to value them too!
Growled, with a whole island all to himself,
And in the midst of his numberless farms,
Questioned of solitude, “Where are thy charms?”
Stupid old fellow he was, I declare,—
I could have answered, if I had been there;
And if I err not, with little ado,
I could have taught him to value them too!
105
Oh, 't is so rare and delightful to be
Careless, unguarded, unwatchful, and free,
Not observed, looked at, and marked all the while.
So if one will, one may frown, blush, or smile,
With the sweet surety that no one will spy,
Guess at one's motives, and judge one thereby.
Blessings on Fate, let her scowl when she may,—
I am deliciously lonesome to-day!
Careless, unguarded, unwatchful, and free,
Not observed, looked at, and marked all the while.
So if one will, one may frown, blush, or smile,
With the sweet surety that no one will spy,
Guess at one's motives, and judge one thereby.
Blessings on Fate, let her scowl when she may,—
I am deliciously lonesome to-day!
| The Triangular Society | |