The Hermit
A hermit there was who lived in a dell.
I'll swear by the truth of this story I tell.
My grandfathers's grandfather knew him quite well,
This hermit!
Well he lived all alone by the side of a lake.
Concoctions and herbs for his food he would make.
And naught but a fish, would the good man partake.
On a Friday!
Now to ordinary mortals his portals were closed.
And yearly he bathed both his body and clothes.
How the lake stood it the Lord only knows.
He stunk...
One morning he rose all dripping and wet.
His horrified vision two young ladies met.
In feminine matters he knew nothing yet.
So he blushed!
Yes he reached for his hat were it lay on the beach,
To cover up all, that its broad rim would reach.
And he called to the girls in a horrified screech.
Piss off!
But the maids only laughed at his piteous plight.
And begged him to show them that wonderful sight.
But he clenched to his hat and held it so tight,
To hide it!
And at that moment a wondering gnat,
Made the hermit forget just where he was at.
He struck at the insect, let go the hat,
Oh horrors!
And now I come to the crux of my tale
The hermit turned scarlet and then he turned pale
He offered a prayer because prayer's never fail
Lord help him!
Of the truth of this story there's no doubt at all.
The Lord heard his prayer, and answered his call.
Though he let go the hat, but the hat did not fall.
A blessed miracle!
