Malvern Hills with Minor Poems, and Essays. By Joseph Cottle. Fourth Edition |
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THE HERMIT's EVENING SONG. |
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 | Malvern Hills |  |
THE HERMIT's EVENING SONG.
ON the rough stone I sit, whilst the evening draws nigh,
And the zephyrs their fragrance luxuriously send;
No motion I see, but the birds in the sky,
And the lofty trees, waving, beneath where they lie,
Stretch'd, far as the sight can extend.
And the zephyrs their fragrance luxuriously send;
No motion I see, but the birds in the sky,
And the lofty trees, waving, beneath where they lie,
Stretch'd, far as the sight can extend.
Though my sorrows are great, yet my spirit is calm,
No more, to the winds, I, my anguish will tell;
The breeze playing round, to my soul breathes a balm,
While creation all joins in an audible psalm,
And my heart, the glad anthem shall swell.
No more, to the winds, I, my anguish will tell;
The breeze playing round, to my soul breathes a balm,
While creation all joins in an audible psalm,
And my heart, the glad anthem shall swell.
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A shelter I have from the wind and the rain,
While the fare of the hermit is still my delight;
I may drink of yon riv'let, again and again,
And when I have done with this body of pain,
I shall dwell with the angels in light.
While the fare of the hermit is still my delight;
I may drink of yon riv'let, again and again,
And when I have done with this body of pain,
I shall dwell with the angels in light.
O why should I part with my noblest desire!
Why barter the crown which awaits me above!
That hope, like an anchor, which bids me aspire,
To join, in yon world, the celestial choir,
Who sing of redemption and love!
Why barter the crown which awaits me above!
That hope, like an anchor, which bids me aspire,
To join, in yon world, the celestial choir,
Who sing of redemption and love!
To all 'neath the stars, I shall soon bid adieu,
The clouds gather fast, my departure is near;
Then, my hopes, and my fears, all I dread, or pursue,
Like the waves of the ocean, will fade from my view,
And Eternity only appear!
The clouds gather fast, my departure is near;
Then, my hopes, and my fears, all I dread, or pursue,
Like the waves of the ocean, will fade from my view,
And Eternity only appear!
Men heed not their Maker, his voice from on high,
May they wake, ere too late, from their perilous dream!
But, when I remember, how soon I must die;
That my life passes on, like a cloud of the sky,
My time I must strive to redeem.
May they wake, ere too late, from their perilous dream!
But, when I remember, how soon I must die;
That my life passes on, like a cloud of the sky,
My time I must strive to redeem.
I have heard of glad tidings, far better than they,
(All brief,) which the sons of prosperity prize;
So, hither I come, to meet heaven half way,
With my own heart to commune, to praise, and to pray,
And my pinion to plume for the skies.
(All brief,) which the sons of prosperity prize;
So, hither I come, to meet heaven half way,
With my own heart to commune, to praise, and to pray,
And my pinion to plume for the skies.
The burdens of earth, I will joyfully bear;
Afflictions are monitors, sent to restore;
A pilgrim I am, as my forefathers were,
My portion is sorrow, my birth-right is care,
But the conflict will shortly be o'er.
Afflictions are monitors, sent to restore;
A pilgrim I am, as my forefathers were,
My portion is sorrow, my birth-right is care,
But the conflict will shortly be o'er.
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These woods, where I dwell, can instruction supply,
From the grave of the winter, rejoicing, they rise;
While the birds, on their wing, tell me how I should fly,
To lay hold on the prize, which awaits in the sky,
For the steward, who is faithful and wise.
From the grave of the winter, rejoicing, they rise;
While the birds, on their wing, tell me how I should fly,
To lay hold on the prize, which awaits in the sky,
For the steward, who is faithful and wise.
So here will I pour, still at morning and eve,
The song of the heart to the Father of Love;
I will cease, at my sorrows, all fleeting, to grieve,
For soon, with the just, will my spirit receive,
A part, in the mansions above.
The song of the heart to the Father of Love;
I will cease, at my sorrows, all fleeting, to grieve,
For soon, with the just, will my spirit receive,
A part, in the mansions above.
Then let the winds roar, through the cloud-darken'd air,
As onward I haste, from these regions of night;
The road may be rough, but the prospect is fair,
And, the end of my journey, the end of my care,
Will be permanent, calm, and delight.
As onward I haste, from these regions of night;
The road may be rough, but the prospect is fair,
And, the end of my journey, the end of my care,
Will be permanent, calm, and delight.
| Malvern Hills | |