I AM not one who much or oft delight

         To season my fireside with personal talk,

         Of friends who live within an easy walk, 

Or neighbours daily, weekly, in my sight:

Better than such discourse doth silence, long, 

Long, barren silence, square with my desire;

…   and books we know,

         Are a substantial world both pure and good :

         Round these, with tendrils strong as flesh and blood,

Our pastime and our happiness will grow.

There do I find a never-failing store

Of personal themes, and such as I love best;

…   for thus I live remote

From evil-speaking; rancour, never sought,

         Comes to me not; malignant truth, or lie.

         Hence have I genial seasons, hence have I 

Smooth passions, smooth discourse, and joyous

Thought.

WHEN with dear friends sweet talk I hold, 

And all the flowers of life unfold;

Let not my heart within me burn, 

Except in all I Thee discern.