Of her scorn the maid repented, And the shepherd - of his love.
So fades a summer cloud away; So sinks the gale when storms are o'er; So gently shuts the eye of day; So dies a wave along the shore.
Society than solitude is worse, And man to man is still the greatest curse.
Say not 'Good-night' but in some brighter clime, bid me 'Good-morning.'
We neither laugh alone, nor weep alone, why then should we pray alone?
While Genius was thus wasting his strength in eccentric flights, I saw a person of a very different appearance, named Application.