I asked the sad-faced, necessary priest,
        “How fare you, brother, in this solitude?”
“To be alone,” said he, “for souls is good,
And I, that am the least among the least,
Have round about me flower and bird and beast,
Bright presences that sociably intrude,
And fill in fellowship my loneliest mood,
With inarticulate joy that has not ceased.”
And as he spake, about his ears there fell
A shower of scented blossom, and the drone
Of bees and lapse of waters, clang of daws,
Mixed with the well-contented rooks’ applause
Among their nests.  Methought I, too, could dwell,
Lanherne, in thy sweet valley, and alone.

(Sonnets Round the Coast, p. 45)