Lady of the Mere, Sole-sitting by the shores of old romance.
And through the heat of conflict keeps the law In calmness made, and sees what he foresaw.
With battlements that on their restless fronts Bore stars.
Bright gem instinct with music, vocal spark.
When from our better selves we have too long been parted by the hurrying world, and droop. Sick of its business, of its pleasures tired, how gracious, how benign is solitude.
A multitude of causes unknown to former times are now acting with a combined force to blunt the discriminating powers of the mind, and unfitting it for all voluntary exertion to reduce it to a state of almost savage torpor.