SOLITARY CONFINEMENT
No mortal comes to visit me to-day,
Only the gay and early-rising Sun
Who strolled in nonchalantly, just to say,
“Good morrow, and despair not, foolish one!”
But like the tune which comforted King Saul
Sounds in my brain that sunny madrigal.
Anon the playful Wind arises, swells
Into vague music, and departing, leaves
A sense of blue bare heights and tinkling bells,