Excerpt from Kynwith

I was alone and somewhat out of health,
Care-stricken too, for I had miss'd the wealth
I hoped to gather, so I sought repose
In northern Devon, where my fancy chose
A quiet spot that seemed to promise all
My heart could wish for, which would not recall
Old scenes of toil and sorrow, while kind friends
Were not too distant, but could make amends
For hours of solitude, and sometimes share
Small pleasures with me. So I lingered there
Four pleasant weeks, and heard a local tale
I would remember - fearing I should fail,
Began to write it. Then ambition burned
For higher praises than I yet had earned

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