Page:Landon in Fisher's Drawing Room Scrap Book 1836.pdf/78

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‘ a gloomy place, but I like it well; There would I choose, alone, to dwell; The rocks around should friends supply, Less cold, less hard than those I fly.

I do not care for the rosy flowers, On them is the shadow of other hours. I gathered a rose beneath the sun, In an hour its lovely life was done.

No! here I will find for myself a cave, Half a home, and half a grave; Dark in the noontide hour ’twill be— Dark—and the darker the fitter for me.

The hills are rough, and the hills are bare, More like the heart that harboureth there. I shall hear the storm as it rolleth by, I shall watch the clouds that shadow the sky.

All I ask is never to hear Of human hope or of human fear; I have had enough of both in my day, And I know how their seeming passes away.

The wind may sometimes bear along The distant sound of the shepherd’s song; I shall rejoice that no more I share In fancies and follies that make his care.

The falling leaves will make my bed, The granite stone will pillow my head; The cave in the rock is a fitting shrine For heart so wither’d and worn as mine.