DEEP in his meditative bower, The tranquil seer reclined; Numbering the creepers of an hour, The gourds which o'er him twined. To note each plant, to rear each fruit Which soothes the languid sense, He deem'd a safe, refined pursuit -- His Lord, an indolence. The sudden voice was heard at length, "Lift thou the prophet's rod!" But sloth had sapp'd the prophet's strength, He fear'd, and fled from God. Next, by a fearful judgment tamed, He threats the offending race; God spares; -- he murmurs, pride-inflamed, His threat made void by grace. What? -- pride and sloth! man's worst of foes! And can such guests invade Our choicest bliss, the green repose Of the sweet garden-shade? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE DOLL BELIEVERS by CLARENCE MAJOR FROM THE SHORE by CARL SANDBURG TO SIR HENRY WOTTON (1) by JOHN DONNE GERANIUMS by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON PRE-EXISTENCE by PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE A TERRIBLE INFANT by FREDERICK LOCKER-LAMPSON LOVE NOT by CAROLINE ELIZABETH SARAH SHERIDAN NORTON |