from ‘Solitude’ (opens in new tab)

O how sweet I cannot tell With thee at that hour to dwell Stretchd the mossy bank beside Lye to view the random tide Where no clowns has chopt from thence Bush nor stake to mend his fence Cornerd stones & pebbles round Breaking dasht wi mellow sound Wether this or that to see I am blest if Im wi thee & full dear has been the hour Spent wi in thy noon day bower Prest wi thee thy mossy seat O its unexpressive sweet \#poetry \#environment \#honesty Comments welcome below