I am monarch of all I survey,
My right there is none to dispute,
For my creditors can’t do away
With their dread for the toe of my boot
O Solitude! where are the charms
That sages have seen in thy face,
If forebodings one’s bosom alarms
That a bailiff may come to the place?
I am out of my landlady’s reach;
She knows it, and leaves me alone,