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To Solitude 1 Oh Solitude! to whose serene abode The Hermit flies to commune with his God. Where buried in some deep & silent [[deletion]] fen [[/deletion]] [[addition]] glen [[/addition]] Shuddering he quits, the guilty haunts of men With thee & the dear partner of my life, Far from mad ambitious strife Here, let me dwell, a fond & faithful Wife. 2 Thou Solitude art contemplations freind On thee the rational delights attend. No gilded Chariot haunts thy door No flambeau's blaze, no drunkards roar No ratling dice, no clashing Swords No Squandering fool, no wretch that hoards No lordly [[underline]] beggars, & no [[/underline]] beggar'd lords. 3
