Poems (Mary Coleridge)/Poem 103

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CIII ON THE ARRIVAL OF A VISITOR
 Farewell, my Loneliness! I that had thought to curse thee, come to bless.Deep skies and glowing stars in thee I found. A stream ran through the sandy wildernessAnd roses blossomed on the desert ground.
 Belovèd Solitude! No voices over-eager, harsh, or rude,Mar the sweet music of thy gracious hours. Among the crowd of those too near and dear Too often have I known disgust and fear,The isolation of those glorious powersThat in self-knowledge are, not, not ourselves, but ours.
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