Sweet solitude, what joy to be alone-- In wild, wood-shady dell to stay for hours. Twould soften hearts if they were hard as stone To see glad butterflies and smiling flowers. Tis pleasant in these quiet lonely places, Where not the voice of man our pleasure mars, To see the little bees with coal black faces Gathering sweets from little flowers like stars. The wind seems calling, though not understood. A voice is speaking; hark, it louder calls. It echoes in the far-outstretching wood. First twas a hum, but now it loudly squalls; And then the pattering rain begins to fall, And it is hushed--the fern leaves scarcely shake, The tottergrass it scarcely stirs at all. And then the rolling thunder gets awake, And from black clouds the lightning flashes break. The sunshine's gone, and now an April evening Commences with a dim and mackerel sky. Gold light and woolpacks in the west are leaving, And leaden streaks their splendid place supply. Sheep ointment seems to daub the dead-hued sky, And night shuts up the lightsomeness of day, All dark and absent as a corpse's eye. Flower, tree, and bush, like all the shadows grey, In leaden hues of desolation fade away. Tis May; and yet the March flower Dandelion Is still in bloom among the emerald grass, Shining like guineas with the sun's warm eye on-- We almost think they are gold as we pass, Or fallen stars in a green sea of grass. They shine in fields, or waste grounds near the town. They closed like painter's brush when even was. At length they turn to nothing else but down, While the rude winds blow off each shadowy crown. _Secret Love_ I hid my love when young till I Couldn't bear the buzzing of a fly; I hid my love to my despite Till I could not bear to look at light: I dare not gaze upon her face But left her memory in each place; Where eer I saw a wild flower lie I kissed and bade my love good bye. I met her in the greenest dells Where dewdrops pearl the wood blue bells The lost breeze kissed her bright blue eye, The bee kissed and went singing by, A sunbeam found a passage there, A gold chain round her neck so fair; As secret as the wild bee's song She lay there all the summer long. I hid my love in field and town Till een the breeze would knock me down, The bees seemed singing ballads oer, The fly's bass turned a lion's roar; And even silence found a tongue, To haunt me all the summer long; The riddle nature could not prove Was nothing else but secret love. _Bantry Bay_ On the eighteenth of October we lay in Bantry Bay, All ready to set sail, with a fresh and steady gale: A fortnight and nine days we in the harbour lay, And no breeze ever reached us or strained a single sail. Three ships of war had we, and the great guns loaded all; But our ships were dead and beaten that had never feared a foe. The winds becalmed around us cared for no cannon ball; They locked us in the harbour and would not let us go.