ODE TO RETIREMENT.
"Nor those alone prefer a life recluse,
Who seek retirement for his proper use;
To them the deep recess of dusky groves,
Or forest where the deer securely roves,
The fall of waters and the song of birds,
And hills that echo to the distant herds,
Are luxuries excelling all the glare
The world can boast, and her chief fav’rites share."[1]
Pale maiden, that dost sit with downcast eye,
Musing on many things, although thy path
Hath now no more the toil another hath.
This world and this world’s things thou hast put by,
A holier and a calmer lot to try.
Beloved art thou of many in their speech,
The goal which is the general hope to reach;
Yet gained, thy sister Weariness stands nigh.
Mistress of mournful thoughts and quiet hours,
Given to Memory more than Hope’s domain—
Visions and fancies haunt thy dreaming bowers,
Where life may linger, but may not remain.
Only a shelter art thou on our road,
But never meant for mortal man’s abode.
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- ↑ Cowper
