Solitude In September.

O BEATA SOLITUDO; O SOLA BEATITUDO.         (Inscription in the Grounds of Burg Birseck, near Basel.)         Sweet Solitude where dost thou linger?             When and where shall I look in thy face?         Feel the soft magic touch of thy finger,             The glow of thy silent embrace?         Stern Civilization has banished             Thy charms to a region unknown;         The spell of thy beauty has vanished -             Sweet Solitude, where hast thou flown?         I have sought thee on pampas and prairie,             By blue lake and bluer crevasse,         On shores that are arid and airy,             Lone peak, and precipitous pass.         I have sought thee, sweet Solitude, ever             Regardless of peril and pain;         But in spite of my utmost endeavour             I have sought thee, fair charmer, in vain.         To the Alps, to the Alps in September,             Unconducted by Cook, did I rush;         Full well even now I remember             How my heart with emotion did gush.         Here at least in these lonely recesses             With thee I shall cast in my lot;         Shall feel thy endearing caresses,             Forgetting all else and forgot.         But I met a young couple "proposing"          On the top of the sunny Languard;         I surprised an old gentleman dozing,             "Times" in hand, on the heights of Fort Bard.         In the fir woods of sweet Pontresina             Picnic papers polluted the walks;         On the top of the frosty Bernina             I found a young mountain of - corks.         I trod, by the falls of the Handeck,             On the end of a penny cigar;         As I roamed in the woods above Landeck             A hair-pin my pleasure did mar:         To the Riffel in vain I retreated,             Mr. Gaze and the Gazers were there;         On the top of the Matterhorn seated             I picked up a lady's back hair!         From the Belle Vue in Thun I was hunted             By "'Arry" who wished to play pool;         On the Col du Bonhomme I confronted             The whole of a young ladies' school.         At Giacomo's Inn in Chiesa             I was asked to take shares in a mine;         With an agent for "Mappin's new Razor"             I sat down at Baveno to dine.         On the waves of Lake Leman were floating             Old lemons (imagine my feelings!),         The fish in Lucerne were all gloating             On cast-away salads and peelings;         And egg-shells and old bones of chicken             On the shore of St. Moritz did lie:         My spirit within me did sicken -             Sweet Solitude, where shall I fly?         Disconsolate, gloomy, and undone             I take in the "Dilly" my place;         By Zurich and Basel to London             I rush, as if running a race.         My quest and my troubles are over;             As I drive through the desolate street         To my Club in Pall Mall, I discover             Sweet Solitude's summer retreat.