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Sonnet in Praise of a Solitary Life. 
Sweet solitary life! lovely, dumb joy, 
That need’st no warnings how to grow more wise 
By other mens mishaps, nor the annoy 
Which from sore wrongs done to one’s self doth rise: 
The morning’s second mansion, truth’s first friend, 
Never acquainted with the world’s vain broils, 
When the whole day to our own use we spend, 
And our dear time no fierce ambition spoils. 
Most happy state, that never tak’st revenge 
For injuries received, nor dost fear 
The court’s great earthquake, the grieved truth of change, 
Nor none of falsehood’s savory lies dost hear; 
Nor know’st hope’s sweet disease that charms our sense, 
Nor its sad cure— dear-bought experience! 
Anon. 
The “Sun-Flower ” so called from the form 
and color of its flower, which is a large disk with 
yellow rays, or from its habit of turning to the sun. 
Let the Rose boast of her fragrance, the soft gales 
perfuming, 
The tulip unfold all her fair hues to me: 
Yet, while sweet be their perfume, their rainbow 
dyes blooming, v 
I turn, noble Sun-Flower, with more love to thee. 
Anon, 
