_To Ye Cheerless Hermit_

Arise! thou melancholy recluse--arise! Leave thy cell! Turn not thy days to night. Vile beasts and bats in darkness dwell; For us, God made the light.

For us, the sunshine and the flowers; For us, the birds, the bees, The leafy trees, the odorous bowers; And all our wants, God planned to please.

Come, then, come out into the day! Look up! Choke down thy silly grief; Fling all thy cark and care away; Rejoice! Help Nature sing her psalm of life.

Gloomy scholar, drop that skull! Ghoulish research there is vain; Studies such are void and null; From Pleasure learn the cure of pain!

Be glad! Thy joy may cheer another! Weep not. (Grief wounds not self alone!) Heap not thy sorrows on thy brother; Old Misery’s sighs would e’en make angels groan!

Apostle of Woe, thy faith’s a fable; Try schemes of sorrow ill. Joy and Hope are props more stable; Merry, men may be, and righteous, too, who will.