GOSSIP
Though blameless thy living
As Anchorite's fate,
Yet Gossip will find thee
Or early or late.
Through keyhole he enters
And stands at thy side,
Doors of wood nor of stone
Against him provide.
He pulls the alarm bell
At slightest excuse—
And down to thy grave
Will pursue with abuse.
Self defence nothing boots thee,
Thy flight he will worst—
To earth he will tread thee,
O Gossip be cursed!