Oft upon the twilight plain, <br />Circled with thy shadowy train, <br />While the dove at distance coo'd, <br />Have I met thee, Solitude! <br />Then was loneliness to me <br />Best and true society, <br />But ah! how alter'd is thy mien <br />In this sad deserted scene! <br />Here all thy classic pleasures cease, <br />Musing mild, and thoughtful peace; <br />Here thou com'st in sullen mood, <br />Not with thy fantastic brood <br />Of magic shapes and visions airy <br />Beckon'd from the land of Fairy: <br />'Mid the melancholy void <br />Not a pensive charm enjoy'd! <br />No poetic being here <br />Strikes with airy sounds mine ear; <br />No converse here to fancy cold <br />With many a fleeting form I hold, <br />Here all inelegant and rude <br />Thy presence is, sweet Solitude.<br /><br />Thomas Warton Jr.<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/solitude-at-an-inn/
