I love the stillness of the wood: | |
I love the music of the rill: | |
I love to couch in pensive mood | |
Upon some silent hill. | |
5 | Scarce heard, beneath you arching trees, |
The silver-crested ripples pass; | |
And, like a mimic brook, the breeze | |
Whispers among the grass. | |
Here from the world I win release, | |
10 | Nor scorn of men, nor footstep rude, |
Break in to mar the holy peace | |
Of this great solitude. | |
Here may the silent tears I weep | |
Lull the vexed spirit into rest, | |
15 | As infants sob themselves to sleep |
Upon a mother's breast. | |
But when the bitter hour is gone, | |
And the keen throbbing pangs are still, | |
Oh, sweetest then to couch alone | |
20 | Upon some silent hill! |
To live in joys that once have been, | |
To put the cold world out of sight, | |
And deck life's drear and barren scene | |
With hues of rainbow-light. | |
25 | For what to man the gift of breath, |
If sorrow be his lot below; | |
If all the day that ends in death | |
Be dark with clouds of woe? | |
Shall the poor transport of an hour | |
30 | Repay long years of sore distress — |
The fragrance of a lonely flower | |
Make glad the wilderness? | |
Ye golden hours of Life's young spring, | |
Of innocence, of love and truth! | |
35 | Bright, beyond all imagining, |
Thou fairy-dream of youth! | |
I'd give all wealth that years have piled, | |
The slow result of Life's decay, | |
To be once more a little child | |
40 | For one bright summer-day. |
March 16, 1853. |
Friday, October 7, 2011
Solitude
I should really call this a poetry blog instead of a favorite quote blog. Today's entry is from Lewis Carroll. I actually carry a little card around in my wallet with a snippet from this poem on it (along with my Grandpa Robertson's drivers license and a photo of my friend Gerianne Miller, who was killed in a plane crash in the early 1980's). Solitude was written in 1853 and is still a classic in my book.
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