Classic Poem

Thou lonely tarn, with rocks begirt around,
Gleaming amid this wilderness of hills,
Fed by the passing clouds, the neighbouring hills,
And cradled in a solitude profound,—
How goes the world with thee? What changes pass
O'er the calm surface of thy crystal face,
When o'er thee the fierce tempest rides apace,
And the dread thunder sings its wondrous bass?
Spring doth awake thee into smiles of light;
Summer doth tinge thee with celestial blue;
Autumn with many a sunset's gorgeous hue;
And Winter with the shadows of his might.
Oh! for a hermitage, where I might be
With God, high thought, calm solitude, and thee!