I praise the Frenchman; his remark was shrewd,--
"How sweet, how passing sweet is solitude."
But grant read more

I praise the Frenchman; his remark was shrewd,--
"How sweet, how passing sweet is solitude."
But grant me still a friend in my retreat,
Whom I may whisper--Solitude is sweet.

O Solitude! if I must with thee dwell,
Let it not be among the jumbled heap
Of read more

O Solitude! if I must with thee dwell,
Let it not be among the jumbled heap
Of murky buildings: climb with me the steep,--
Nature's observatory--whence the dell,
In flowery slopes, its river's crystal swell,
May seem a span; let me thy vigils keep
'Mongst boughs pavilion'd, where the deer's swift leap
Startles the wild bee from the foxglove bell.

Whoever gives himself up to solitude,
Ah! he is soon alone.
[Ger., Wer sich der Einsamkeit ergiebt,
read more

Whoever gives himself up to solitude,
Ah! he is soon alone.
[Ger., Wer sich der Einsamkeit ergiebt,
Ach! der ist bald allein.]

Loneliness is and always has been the central and inevitable experience of every man.

Loneliness is and always has been the central and inevitable experience of every man.

So lonely 'twas that God himself
Scarce seemed there to be.

So lonely 'twas that God himself
Scarce seemed there to be.

I lived in solitude in the country and noticed how the monotony of a quiet life stimulates the creative mind

I lived in solitude in the country and noticed how the monotony of a quiet life stimulates the creative mind

In solitude, when we are least alone.

In solitude, when we are least alone.

That he was never less at leisure than when at leisure: nor that
he was ever less alone than read more

That he was never less at leisure than when at leisure: nor that
he was ever less alone than when alone.
[Lat., Nunquam se minus otiosum esse quam cum otiosus; nec minus
solum quam cum solus esset.]

Alone!--That worn-out word,
So idly spoken, and so coldly heard;
Yet all that poets sing, and grief read more

Alone!--That worn-out word,
So idly spoken, and so coldly heard;
Yet all that poets sing, and grief hath known,
Of hope laid waste, knells in that word--Alone!