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...WHITE AN' BLUE by WILLIAM BARNES STANZAS by GEORGE GORDON BYRON DORA VERSUS ROSE by HENRY AUSTIN DOBSON TO THE RIVER by EDGAR ALLAN POE DOVE RIVER ANTHOLOGY, BY OWN WILLIAM WORDSWORTH: LUCY GRAY by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS EPIGRAM by DECIMUS MAGNUS AUSONIUS |