CONVERSATICN,
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Declare how sweet is life when spent atone
How balm the gale that plays around his cell
That gale which human voices never swell,
How dear to wander through the cntangled


wood,


Where human foot ne 'er broke the solitude
And while mankind in woe and error stray,
Calmy to pass without a care his days.


What--and can this, Ga stoic's joy at best
Suffice to recompense the human breast
For the dear intercourse of social life;
Potent to soothe the bosoms widest strife /;
Can solitude and quiet make amends
For the sweet converse of beloved friends
Can natures beauty fill the bounding soul
Formed for society, and friendships sweet


control?


And oh! when sickness bends the aching
How mournful is that unattended bed!
Where the poor palid sufferer lies him down
And meets the gloomy messenger alone!
AT that dread hour when parting life retres,
And half-extinguished burn her fading fires,
How sweet on friendships plying breas: to


lie,


While tender tear-dIops gather in her eye I;
Hear her soft voice pronounce the words of
And mark her finger point to worlds above.
Oh! then, if this is blss-to live alone,
Grant that to me it never may be known.
No-tis not blss-go seek that hermit s


cell,


Where solitude and quiet round him dwell,
Where summer suns shed soft and genial


beams


And the cool brook runs ripping in the


CLEANS;


On! you will see beneath that placid smile
Dark discomfort lowers on his brow the


while,


And by the sighs that oft his bosom swell
Show that he loves the parted ,rorld too meH
Grant him sincere-that hating human kind
lie here retires to commune with his mind
While in his bosom pleasure springs to birth
And fond remembrance clings not to the


earth.


Oh! It's cold, dull, contracted soul.
Where mild benevoicnce has no control!
lie hates the man, who, glorying in his


shame


Would cnrse the earth to give himself {
lie scorns the miser cropping for his pelr,
~ Il