...sanctuary, proves a grave, A sepulchre, in which the living lie, Where all good qualities grow sick and die. I praise the Frenchman*, his remark was shrewd—...grant me still a friend in my retreat, Whom I may whisper—solitude is sweet. Yet neither these delights, nor aught beside, That appetite can ask, or...

...sanctuary, proves a grave, A sepulchre in which the living lie, Where all good qualities grow sick and die, I praise the Frenchman^, his remark was shrewd—...grant me still a friend in my retreat, Whom I may whisper—solitude is sweet. Yet neither these delights, nor aught beside That appetite can ask, or...

...the Frenchman*, his remark was shrewdHow sweet, how passing sweet, is solitnde i * Brnyere. * US Bnt grant me still a friend in my retreat, Whom I may whisper— solitnde is sweet. Tet neither these delights, nor ant*ht beside. That appetite can ask, or wealth...

...sanctuary, proves a grave, A sepulchre, in which the living lie, Where all good qualities grow sick and die. I praise the Frenchman,* his remark was shrewd —...That appetite can ask, or wealth provide, Can save ns always from a tedious day, Or shine the dulness of still life away ; Divine communion, carefully...

...sanctuary, proves a gravef A sepulchre, in which the living lie, Where all good qualities grow sick and die. I praise the Frenchman *, his remark was shrewd —...solitude is sweet, Yet neither these delights, nor aught heside, That appetite can ask, or wealth provide, Can save us always from a tedious day, Or shine the...

...sanctuary, proves a grave, A sepulchre, in which the living lie, Where all good qualities grow sick and die. I praise the Frenchman *, his remark was shrewd — How sweet, how passing sweet, is solitnde ! But grant me still a friend in my retreat, Whom I may whisper — solitnde is sweet, Yet...

...sanctuary, proves a grave, A sepulchre, in which the living lie, Where all good qualities grow sick and die. I praise the Frenchman*, his remark was shrewd—-...retreat, Whom I may whisper — solitude is sweet, » Bruyere. Yet neither these delights, nor aught beside, That appetite can ask, or wealth provide,...

...proves a grave, A sepulchre, in which the living lie, Where all good qualities grow sick and die. j 1 praise the Frenchman,* his remark was shrewd — ^ How sweet, how passing sweet, is solitude ! f But grant me still a friend in my retreat, I Whom I may whisper — Solitude is sweet. Yet neither...

...die. l praise the Frenchman,* his remark was shrewd— How sweet,how passing sweet, is solitnde ! Hat grant me still a friend in my retreat, Whom I may whisper— solitnde is sweet. Yet neither these delights, nor anght beside, Ihat appetite can ask, or wealth provide,...

...Amicitia, , cap. vi. I praise the Frenchman, his remark was shrewd — • How sweet, how charming sweet, is solitude!' But grant me still a friend in...retreat, Whom I may whisper — ' Solitude is sweet.' — COWPER. HAIL to thee once more, my beloved sofa, soother of my cares, and inspirer of my meditations...