EARLY POEMS ON When no congenial bosom throbs reply, Expire in silence, or are turn'd to care. And, as I ponder'd how I still pursued A lonely path, Life's varied maze along, How vainly sought a mind of kindred mood, 'Twas thus I pour'd the desultory song. "Say,breathes there one, whose wearied soul,like mine, By none its wants--its wishes understood, Is doom'd, in silent singleness, to pine For something more than what the world calls good; "To loathe ?he sophist's cold, unfeeling prate, The fool's vain ribaldry, and laughter loud; The gloom of unshar'd solitude to hate, Yet shun to mingle with the senseless crowd; "To seek, with never-ending search, a mind, Whose feelings still should vibrate to his own, Like chords, which sound so various, when combin'd, But will not make sweet harmony alone ? "If.such there be, oh, let him not believe Such lonely sorrows none but him molest, Oh, let hi TM learn, as wildly one can grieve, As unresponded pants one wayward breast. ......... ?Google
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