Tliere is a pleasure in the pathless woods. 



There is a rapture on the lonely shore, 



There is society where none intrudes 



Bv the deep sea, and music in its roar: 



I love not man the less, but nature more. 



From these our interviezvs, in zvhich I steal 



From all I may be, or have been before. 



To mingle n'ith the universe, and feel 



What I can neer express, yet cannot all conceal. 



BVRON. 



