Page:Poems Sigourney, 1834.pdf/25

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Solitude I sought.—There was a dell Where woven shades shut out the eye of day, While towering near, the rugged mountains made Dark back-ground 'gainst the sky.

Thither I went, And bade my spirit taste that lonely fount For which it long had thirsted 'mid the strife And fever of the world.—I thought to be There without witness.—But the violet's eye Looked up to greet me, the fresh wild-rose smiled, And the young pendent vine-flower kissed my cheek. There were glad voices, too.—The garrulous brook, Untiring, to the patient pebbles told Its history.—Up came the singing breeze And the broad leaves of the cool poplar spake Responsive, every one.—Even busy life Woke in that dell.—The dexterous spider threw From spray to spray the silver-tissued snare. The thrifty ant, whose curving pincers pierced The rifled grain, toiled toward her citadel. To her sweet hive went forth the loaded bee, While from her wind-rocked nest, the mother-bird Sang to her nurslings.—

Yet I strangely thought To be alone and silent in thy realm, Spirit of life and love!—It might not be!— There is no solitude in thy domains,