large/7359/selections_gems_poetry_girls_boys_1807_librivox_64kb_mp3/gemsofpoetry_02_unknown_64kb_6
large/7359/selections_gems_poetry_girls_boys_1807_librivox_64kb_mp3/gemsofpoetry_02_unknown_64kb
English
7359
My friends—do they now and then send A wish or a thought after me? Oh, tell me I yet have a friend, Though a friend I am never to see. MY FRIENDS DO THEY NOW AND THEN SEND A WISH OR THOUGHT AFTER ME O TELL ME YET HAVE FRIEND THOUGH FRIEND I'M NEVER TO SEE
er land. Anonymous. The Solitude of Alexander Selkirk. I am monarch of all I survey, My right there is none to dispute, From the center all round to the sea, I am lord of the fowl and the brute. O Solitude! where are the charms That sages have seen in thy face? Better dwell in the midst of alarms Than reign in this horrible place. I am out of humanity's reach, I must finish my journey alone, Never hear the sweet music of speech,— I start at the sound of my own. The beasts that roam over the plain My form with indifference see; They are so unacquainted with man, Their tameness is shocking to me. Society, Friendship, and Love, Divinely bestow'd upon man, Oh, had I the wings of a dove, How soon would I taste you again! My sorrows I then might assuage In the ways of religion and truth, Might learn from the wisdom of age, And be cheer'd by the sallies of youth. Ye winds that have made me your sport, Convey to this desolate shore Some cordial endearing report Of a land I shall visit no more! DER FELKIRK BETTER DWELL IN MIDST OF ALARM THAN REIGN IN THIS HORRIBLE PLACE I AM OUT OF HUMANITY'S REACH I MUST FINISH MY JOURNEY ALONE NEVER HEARD THE SWEET MUSIC OF SPEECH I START AT THE SOUND OF MY OWN THE BEASTS THAT ROAM O'ER THE PLAIN MY FORM WITH INDIFFERENCE SEE THEY ARE SO UNACQUAINTED WITH MAN THEIR TAMENESS IS SHOCKING TO ME SOCIETY FRIENDSHIP AND LOVE DIVINELY BESTOWED UPON MAN OH HAD I THE WINGS OF A DOVE HOW SOON WOULD I TASTE YOU AGAIN MY SORROWS I THEN MIGHT ASSAGE IN THE WAYS OF RELIGION AND TRUTH MIGHT LEARN FROM THE WISDOM OF AGE AND BE CHEERED BY THE SALLIES OF YOUTH RELIGION WHAT TREASURE UNTOLD RESIDE IN THAT HEAVENLY WORLD MORE PRECIOUS THAN SILVER OR GOLD OR ALL THAT THIS EARTH CAN AFFORD BUT THE SOUND OF THE CHURCH GOING BALE THOSE VALLEYS OUR ROCKS NEVER HEARD NE'ER SIGHED AT THE SOUND OF A KNELL OR SMILED WHEN THE SABBATH APPEARED YE WINDS THAT HAVE MADE ME YOUR SPORT CONVEY TO THIS DESOLATE SHORE SOME CORDIAL ENDEARING REPORT OF A LAND I SHALL VISIT NO MORE
large/7359/selections_gems_poetry_girls_boys_1807_librivox_64kb_mp3/gemsofpoetry_02_unknown_64kb
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