I praise the Frenchman, his remark was shrewd,—

How sweet, how passing sweet, is solitude!

But grant me still a friend in my retreat,

Whom I may whisper, Solitude is sweet.

William Cowper (1731-1800): Retirement. Line 739.

And Katerfelto, with his hair on end

At his own wonders, wondering for his bread.

'T is pleasant, through the loopholes of retreat,

To peep at such a world,—to see the stir

Of the great Babel, and not feel the crowd.

William Cowper (1731-1800): The Task. Book iv. The Winter Evening. Line 86.

Let us make an honourable retreat.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): As You Like It. Act iii. Sc. 2.