Page:Poems Griffith.djvu/56

The Hermit.

IT was a cold and bitter winter night.
The keen winds howled around like beasts of prey
Seeking for victims. A white shroud of snow
Covered the desolate and lonely moor
On which a cottage stood. A single lamp
Shone through the window, shedding faintly round
A melancholy light. Within those walls
Dwelt the lone Hermit of the moor, and now
Upon the hard and stony floor he knelt
In fervent prayer to Heaven.

               Beside him lay
The rosary, the missal, and the scourge;
No fire was on his cold and cheerless hearth;