The night was cold, the wind was high,
And stars bespangled all the sky;
Churchwarden Joe had laid him down,
And slept secure on bed of down;
But still the pleasing hope of gain,
That never left his active brain,
Exposed the churchyard to his view,
That seat of treasure wholly new.
-Pull down that cross,â? he quickly cried,
The mason instantly complied:
When lo! behold, the golden prize
Appears-joy sparkles in his eyes.
The door now creaks, the window shakes,
With sudden fear he starts and wakes;
Quaking and pale, in eager haste
His haggard eyes around he cast;
A ghastly phantom, lean and wan,
That instant rose, and thus began:
-Weak wretch-to think to blind my eyes!
Hypocrisy's a thin disguise;
Your humble mien and fawning tongue
Have oft deceived the old and young.
On this side now, and now on that,
The very emblem of the bat:
Whatever part you take, we know
'Tis only interest makes it so,
And though with sacred zeal you burn,
Religion's only for your turn;
I'm Conscience called!â? Joe greatly feared;
The lightning flashed-it disappeared.
The Churchwarden And The Apparition: A Fable
Thomas Chatterton
(1)
Poem topics: fear, hope, joy, never, night, rose, sky, wind, tongue, religion, young, weak, brain, door, cold, treasure, humble, blind, high, view, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation
Write your comment about The Churchwarden And The Apparition: A Fable poem by Thomas Chatterton
Best Poems of Thomas Chatterton