| |
| IF thou in the dear love of some one friend | |
| Hast been so happy that thou know’st what thoughts | |
| Will sometimes in the happiness of love | |
| Make the heart sink, then wilt thou reverence | |
| This quiet spot; and, Stranger! not unmoved | 5 |
| Wilt thou behold this shapeless heap of stones, | |
| The desolate ruins of St. Herbert’s cell. | |
| Here stood his threshold; here was spread the roof | |
| That sheltered him, a self-secluded man, | |
| After long exercise in social cares | 10 |
| And offices humane, intent to adore | |
| The Deity, with undistracted mind, | |
| And meditate on everlasting things, | |
| In utter solitude. But he had left | |
| A fellow-laborer, whom the good man loved | 15 |
| As his own soul. And when, with eye upraised | |
| To heaven, he knelt before the crucifix, | |
| While o’er the lake the cataract of Lodore | |
| Pealed to his orisons, and when he paced | |
| Along the beach of this small isle and thought | 20 |
| Of his companion, he would pray that both | |
| (Now that their earthly duties were fulfilled) | |
| Might die in the same moment. Nor in vain | |
| So prayed he;—as our chronicles report, | |
| Though here the hermit numbered his last day | 25 |
| Far from St. Cuthbert, his beloved friend, | |
| Those holy men both died in the same hour. | |
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