SOLITUDE.
O sweet woods, the delight of solitariness!
O how much do I like your solitariness!
Here nor reason is hid, vailed in innocence,
Nor envy's snaky eye, finds any harbour here.
Nor flatterer's venomous insinuations.
Nor coming humourist's puddled opinions,
Nor courteous ruin of proffer'd usury,
Nor time prattled away, cradle of ignorance,
Nor causeless duty, nor cumber of arrogance,