Verse > Anthologies > William Stanley Braithwaite, ed. > The Book of Georgian Verse
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William Stanley Braithwaite, ed.  The Book of Georgian Verse.  1909.
 
To Solitude
By John Keats (1795–1821)
 
O SOLITUDE! if I must with thee dwell,
  Let it not be among the jumbled heap
  Of murky buildings; climb with me the steep,—
Nature’s observatory—whence the dell,
Its flowery slopes, its river’s crystal swell        5
  May seem a span; let me thy vigils keep
  ’Mongst boughs pavilion’d where the deer’s swift leap
Startles the wild bee from the fox-glove bell.
But though I’ll gladly trace these scenes with thee,
  Yet the sweet converse of an innocent mind,        10
  Whose words are images of thoughts refin’d,
Is my soul’s pleasure; and it sure must be
  Almost the highest bliss of human-kind,
When to thy haunts two kindred spirits flee.
 
 
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