The thoughts of thousands who have thought before thee

Come crowding round thy brain and fill the air,

And seek a new expression on thy lips.

Thou art in such ennobling company,

That Solitude becomes the gorgeous feast,

For which thy soul is clothed in white and purple,

Thy feet unshod tread on the holy ground

Where God has spoken. Hark! Great Solitude

Hath thousand voices and a flood of light,

Be not afraid, enter the Sanctuary,

Thou wilt be taken by the hand and led

To Life's own fountain, never-ending Thought!

{24}

{24}

 THE GNAT

A LONG-LEGGED gnat with airy wings, a dart

A

Sharp as a needle and a searching tusk,

Was flutt'ring round my lamp, clung to my book-shelf,

And wandered over papers. Then I blew

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