The Wiccamical Chaplet a selection of original poetry; comprising smaller poems, serious and comic; classical trifles; sonnets; inscriptions and epitaphs; songs and ballads; mock-heroics, epigrams, fragments, &c. &c. Edited by George Huddesford |
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A HERMIT'S MEDITATION. |
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 | The Wiccamical Chaplet |  |
27
A HERMIT'S MEDITATION.
In lonesome cave
Of noise and interruption void,
His thoughtful solitude
A Hermit thus enjoy'd.
Of noise and interruption void,
His thoughtful solitude
A Hermit thus enjoy'd.
His choicest Book,
The remnant of a human head,
The volume was, whence he
This solemn lecture read.
The remnant of a human head,
The volume was, whence he
This solemn lecture read.
Whoe'er thou art,
Partner of my retirement now,
My nearest intimate,
My best companion Thou!
Partner of my retirement now,
My nearest intimate,
My best companion Thou!
On thee to muse
The busy living world I left;
Of converse all but thine,
And silent that, berest.
The busy living world I left;
Of converse all but thine,
And silent that, berest.
Wert thou the Rich,
The idol of a gazing crowd?
Wert thou the Great,
To whom obsequious thousands bow'd?
The idol of a gazing crowd?
Wert thou the Great,
To whom obsequious thousands bow'd?
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Was learning's store
Ere treasur'd up within this Shell?
Did wisdom ere within
This empty Hollow dwell?
Ere treasur'd up within this Shell?
Did wisdom ere within
This empty Hollow dwell?
Did youthful charms
Ere redden on this ghastful face?
Did Beauty's bloom these cheeks,
This forehead, ever grace?
Ere redden on this ghastful face?
Did Beauty's bloom these cheeks,
This forehead, ever grace?
If on this brow
Ere sat the scornful haughty frown;
Deceitful Pride! where now
Is that disdain?—'Tis gone.
Ere sat the scornful haughty frown;
Deceitful Pride! where now
Is that disdain?—'Tis gone.
If cheerful Mirth
A gayness o'er this baldness cast;
Delusive, fleeting joy!
Where is it now?—'Tis past.
A gayness o'er this baldness cast;
Delusive, fleeting joy!
Where is it now?—'Tis past.
To deck this scalp,
If tedious long-liv'd hours it cost;
Vain, fruitless toil! where's now
That labour seen?—'Tis lost.
If tedious long-liv'd hours it cost;
Vain, fruitless toil! where's now
That labour seen?—'Tis lost.
But painful sweat,
The dear-earn'd price of daily bread,
Was all perhaps that thee
With hungry sorrows fed.
The dear-earn'd price of daily bread,
Was all perhaps that thee
With hungry sorrows fed.
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Perhaps but tears,
Surest relief of heart-sick woe,
Thine only drink, from down
These sockets us'd to flow.
Surest relief of heart-sick woe,
Thine only drink, from down
These sockets us'd to flow.
Oppress'd, perhaps,
With aches and with aged cares,
Down to the grave thou brought'st
A few and hoary hairs.
With aches and with aged cares,
Down to the grave thou brought'st
A few and hoary hairs.
'Tis all Perhaps—
No marks, no tokens, can I trace
What on this stage of life
Thy rank or station was.
No marks, no tokens, can I trace
What on this stage of life
Thy rank or station was.
Nameless, unknown!
Of all distinction stript and bare,
In nakedness conceal'd,
O who shall Thee declare
Of all distinction stript and bare,
In nakedness conceal'd,
O who shall Thee declare
Nameless, unknown,
Yet fit companion thou for me,
Who hear no human voice,
No human visage see.
Yet fit companion thou for me,
Who hear no human voice,
No human visage see.
From Me, from Thee,
The glories of the world are gone:
Nor yet have either lost
What we could call our own.
The glories of the world are gone:
Nor yet have either lost
What we could call our own.
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What we are now
The great, the wise, the fair, the brave,
Shall all hereafter be,
All hermits in the Grave.
The great, the wise, the fair, the brave,
Shall all hereafter be,
All hermits in the Grave.
| The Wiccamical Chaplet | |