  FAREWELL, that sad and bitter word It stirs my soul to-night, As I sit crouching in my cave Above the faggot’s light; Strange, ghostly figures dance and flit Along the cold, damp walls; The black snake glares his drowsy eyes, And from his dungeon crawls. The toad croaks near my humble fire, Is loth to hop away, And knows that ne’er again for him Will I in ambush lay; The bats flit idly to and fro, The mice romp through my cell, And e’en the wind that moans without Repeats that word—farewell. I move, and think ’tis some weird dream Then mutter “’tis my brain;” For here around my throbbing brow Seems clamped a heavy chain, And like a prisoner doomed to die To-morrow at the stake, I count the hours as they fly, And dread the morning’s break. For friends will come to lead me forth, Through frescoed hall and room, To homes where kindred ties await; I fear the hermit’s doom. They’ve tempted me—I fain would rest Here on the dungeon mould, Than dream on beds where curtains swing With sunbeams in each fold. For beasts and birds and creeping things Have owned me as their guest, When man would turn me from his door With cruel word or jest; And as I served my scanty meal, In supplicating lays, The cricket and the katydid Would join my evening praise. God pitied me, my loneliness He made a sweet content; I found companions in the stars That from the heavens bent; His flowers were friends, the golden rod Smiled in its yellow hood, A sentinel about my door The purple thistle stood. But look! the morning’s amber hue Steals on the Easter skies, Farewell! farewell! when Death has closed These dim and longing eyes, In peace to slumber here entombed, Will be the boon I crave, And those who spurned The Hermit’s home Shall shun The Hermit’s grave. |
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