From the Latin. SOLITUDE! where shall I find Thee, pleasing to the thoughtful mind? Sweet delights to thee belong, Untasted by the vulgar throng. Weary of vice and noise I flee, Sweetest comforter, to thee. Here the mild and holy dove Peace inspires and joy and love. Thy unmolested, silent shade No tumultuous sounds invade: No stain of guilt is seen in thee, To soil thy spotless purity. Here the smiling fields around Softest harmony resound. Here, with angel choirs combined, The lord of