This Is No Solitude

This is no Solitude; These brown woods speakIn tones most musical—this limpid riverChaunts a low song, to be forgotten never!—These my beloved companions are so meek,So soul-sustaining, I were crazed to seekAgain the tumult, the o'erpowering hum,Which of the ever busy hiving city come—Parting us from ourselves.—Still let us breatheThe heavenly air of contemplation here;And with old trees, grey stones, and runnels clear,Claim kindred and hold converse. He that seethUpon this vesper spot no loveliness,Nor hears therein a voice of tenderness,Calling him friend, Nature in vain would bless!