For He who made this blooming earth
Smiles on an infant's joy."





ALEXANDER SELKIRK.

[Illustration]

I am monarch of all I survey,
My right there is none to dispute,
From the centre all round to the sea,
I am lord of the fowl and the brute.
O solitude! where are the charms
That sages have seen in thy face?
Better dwell in the midst of alarms
Than reign in this horrible place.
I am out of humanity's reach,
I must finish my journey alone,
Never hear the sweet music of speech,--
I start at the sound of my own.

[Illustration]

The beasts, that roam over the plain,
My form with indifference see,
They are so unacquainted with man,
Their tameness is shocking to me.