This is the full text of the poem of which the first stanza is shown in the Glossary to illustrate the term, scan. It also provides an example of anapestic feet and the second stanza begins with an apostrophe. |
O solitude! where are the charms
That sages have seen in thy face?
While anapestic trimeter is the prevailing metrical pattern of this poem, only 20 of the 56 lines are fully anapestic; 36 lines begin with an iambic foot. |
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.
The beasts that roam over the plain
My form with indifference see;
They are so unacquainted with man,
Their tameness is shocking to me.
Born in Scotland in 1676,
Alexander Selkirk ran away to sea when he was nineteen. In 1704, during a privateering expedition to plunder
Spanish shipping off the Pacific coast of South America, he became concerned over the seaworthiness of
their ship. After a quarrel with the captain, he asked to be put ashore on the Juan Fernandez islands, about
400 miles off the coast of Chile. Selkirk remained alone on the island for four years and four months, until finally
rescued by an English vessel in 1709. His adventures provided the inspiration for Daniel Defoe's Robinson Crusoe. The Chilean government has renamed two of the Juan Fernandez islands, one as Isla Robinson Crusoe and another as Isla Alejandro Selkirk. |
My sorrows I then might assuage
In the ways of religion and truth,
Might learn from the wisdom of age,
And be cheered by the sallies of youth.
Religion! what treasure untold
Resides in that heavenly world!
More precious than silver and gold,
Or all that this earth can afford.
But the sound of the church-going bell
These valleys and rocks never heard,
Ne'er sighed at the sound of a knell,
Or smil'd when a sabbath appear'd.
Ye winds that have made me your sport,
Convey to this desolate shore
Some cordial endearing report
Of a land I shall visit no more:
My friends, do they now and then send
A wish or a thought after me?
O tell me I yet have a friend,
Though a friend I am never to see.
How fleet is a glance of the mind!
Compared with the speed of its flight,
The tempest itself lags behind,
And the swift-winged arrows of light.
When I think of my own native land
In a moment I seem to be there;
But, alas! recollection at hand
Soon hurries me back to despair,
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But the seafowl is gone to her nest,
The beast is laid down in his lair;
Even here is a season of rest,
And I to my cabin repair.
There is mercy in every place,
And mercy, encouraging thought!
Gives even affliction a grace
And reconciles man to his lot.