John Trumbull

(24 April 1750 – 11 May 1831 / Watertown, Connecticut)

Beneath A Mountain's Brow - Poem by John Trumbull

"Beneath a mountain's brow, the most remote
And inaccessible by Shepherds trod,
In a deep cave, dug by no mortals hands
An Hermit lived,--a melancholy man
Who was the wonder of our wand'ring swains:
Austere and lonely--cruel to himself
They did report him--the cold earth his bed,
Water his drink, his food the Shepherd's alms.
I went to see him, and my heart was touched
With reverence and pity. Mild he spake,
And entering on discourse, such stories told,
As made me oft re-visit his sad cell."


Comments about Beneath A Mountain's Brow by John Trumbull

There is no comment submitted by members..



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Read poems about / on: food, lonely, sad, water, heart



Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 1, 2004



[Hata Bildir]