On the Arrival of a Visitor

Farewell, my Loneliness!
I that had thought to curse thee, come to bless.
Deep skies and glowing stars in thee I found.
A stream ran through the sandy wilderness
And roses blossomed on the desert ground.

Beloved Solitude!
No voices over-eager, harsh, or rude,
Mar the sweet music of thy gracious hours.
Among the crowd of those too near and dear
Too often have I known disgust and fear,
The isolation of those glorious powers
That in self-knowledge are, not, not ourselves, but ours.