TO YE CHEERLESS HERMIT
Arise! thou melancholy recluse—arise! Leave thy cell!
Turn not thy days to night.
Vile beasts and bats in darkness dwell;
For us, God made the light.
For us, the sunshine and the flowers;
For us, the birds, the bees,
The leafy trees, the odorous bowers;
And all our wants, God planned to please.
Come, then, come out into the day!
Look up! Choke down thy silly grief;
Fling all thy cark and care away;
Rejoice! Help Nature sing her psalm of life.
Gloomy scholar, drop that skull!
Ghoulish research there is vain;
Studies such are void and null;
From Pleasure learn the cure of pain!
Be glad! Thy joy may cheer another!
Weep not. (Grief wounds not self alone!)
Heap not thy sorrows on thy brother;
Old Misery’s sighs would e’en make angels groan!
Apostle of Woe, thy faith’s a fable;
Try schemes of sorrow ill.
Joy and Hope are props more stable;
Merry, men may be, and righteous, too, who will.