Thomas Warton Jr.
Solitude at an Inn Poem by Thomas Warton Jr.
Oft upon the twilight plain,
Circled with thy shadowy train,
While the dove at distance coo'd,
Have I met thee, Solitude!
Then was loneliness to me
Best and true society,
But ah! how alter'd is thy mien
In this sad deserted scene!
Here all thy classic pleasures cease,
Musing mild, and thoughtful peace;
Here thou com'st in sullen mood,
Not with thy fantastic brood
Of magic shapes and visions airy
Beckon'd from the land of Fairy:
'Mid the melancholy void
Not a pensive charm enjoy'd!
No poetic being here
Strikes with airy sounds mine ear;
No converse here to fancy cold
With many a fleeting form I hold,
Here all inelegant and rude
Thy presence is, sweet Solitude.
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Comments about this poem (Solitude at an Inn by Thomas Warton Jr. )
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Edgar Allan Poe
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Edgar Allan Poe
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
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(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
- Phenomenal Woman, Maya Angelou
- If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- A Dream Within A Dream, Edgar Allan Poe
- Daffodils, William Wordsworth
- If, Rudyard Kipling
- Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, Robert Frost
- Death is Nothing at All, Henry Scott Holland
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- Television, Roald Dahl