O Solitude

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,
Its flowery slopes, its river’s crystal swell, May seem a span;
let me thy vigils keep ’Mongst boughs pavillion’d,
where the deer’s swift leap Startles the wild bee from the fox-glove bell.

But though I’ll gladly trace these scenes with thee,
Yet the sweet converse of an innocent mind,
Whose words are images of thoughts refin’d,
Is my soul’s pleasure; and it sure must be Almost the
highest bliss of human-kind,
When to thy haunts two kindred spirits flee.

Keats