Henry Kirke White, Solitude (a poem)

Recorded in March 2022. Published in "The Remains of Henry Kirke White," who died in 1806 at the age of 21.

Transcript:

It is not that my lot is low
That makes this silent tear to flow;
It is not grief that bids me moan;
It is that I am all alone.

In woods and glens I love to roam,
When the tired hedger hies him home;
Or by the woodland pool to rest
When pale the star looks on its breast.

Yet when the silent evening sighs
With hallowed airs and symphonies,
My spirit takes another tone,
And sighs that it is all alone.

The Autumn leaf is sere and dead—
It floats upon the water’s bed;
I would not be a leaf, to die
Without recording Sorrow’s sigh!

The woods and winds with sullen wail,
Tell all the same unvaried tale;
I’ve none to smile when I am free,
And when I sigh to sigh with me.

Yet in my dreams a form I view,
That thinks on me, and loves me too;
I start, and when the vision’s flown,
I weep that I am all alone.

-

Two remarks on the text:

1) In the 1st line of the 5th stanza, I have sometimes seen "sudden" put for "sullen."

2) In the 2nd line of the 1st stanza, the oldest and most common reading is: "_bids_ this silent tear to flow," not "_makes_." Unfortunately, I have only realised this fact two days after uploading. My own reading is a consequence of extracting "Solitude" from an anthology several years ago, and growing fond of that version. The change is neither very significant, nor do I find it displeasing, so I have decided to leave the video as it stands, rather than upload a new version. (08/03/22.)