Walter Murdoch (1874–1970). The Oxford Book of Australasian Verse. 1918.

5. The Hermit

NOW the quietude of earth

Nestles deep my heart within;

Friendships new and strange have birth

Since I left the city’s din.

Here the tempest stays its guile,

Like a big kind brother plays,

Romps and pauses here awhile

From its immemorial ways.

Now the silver light of dawn,

Slipping through the leaves that fleck

My one window, hurries on,

Throws its arms around my neck.

Darkness to my doorway hies,

Lays her chin upon the roof,

And her burning seraph eyes

Now no longer keep aloof.

And the ancient mystery

Holds its hands out day by day,

Takes a chair and croons with me

By my cabin built of clay.

When the dusky shadow flits,

By the chimney nook I see

Where the old enchanter sits,

Smiles and waves and beckons me.