How sweet, how passing sweet, is solitude!
But grant me still a friend in my retreat,
Whom I may whisper, Solitude is sweet.
Retirement. Line 739.
A kick that scarce would move a horse
May kill a sound divine.
The Yearly Distress.
I am monarch of all I survey,
My right there is none to dispute.
Verses supposed to be written by Alexander Selkirk.