Volume + 

II + 

The Knight had ridden down from Wensley moor + 

With the slow motion of a summer’s cloud; + 

He turned aside towards a Vassal’s door, + 

And, “Bring another Horse!” he cried aloud. + 

“Another Horse!”⁠—That shout the Vassal heard, + 

And saddled his best steed, a comely gray; + 

Sir Walter mounted him; he was the third + 

Which he had mounted on that glorious day. + 

Joy sparkled in the prancing Courser’s eyes; + 

The Horse and Horseman are a happy pair; + 

But, though Sir Walter like a falcon flies, + 

There is a doleful silence in the air. + 

A rout this morning left Sir Walter’s Hall, + 

That as they galloped made the echoes roar; + 

But Horse and Man are vanished, one and all; + 

Such race, I think, was never seen before. + 

Sir Walter, restless as a veering wind, + 

Calls to the few tired Dogs that yet remain: + 

Brach, Swift, and Music, noblest of their kind, + 

Follow, and up the weary mountain strain. + 

The Knight hallooed, he chid and cheered them on + 

With suppliant gestures and upbraidings stern; + 

But breath and eye-sight fail; and, one by one, + 

The Dogs are stretched among the mountain fern. + 

Where is the throng, the tumult of the race? + 

The bugles that so joyfully were blown? + 

—This Chase it looks not like an earthly Chase; + 

Sir Walter and the Hart are left alone. + 

The poor Hart toils along the mountain side; + 

I will not stop to tell how far he fled, + 

Nor will I mention by what death he died; + 

But now the Knight beholds him lying dead. + 

Dismounting then, he leaned against a thorn; + 

He had no follower, Dog, nor Man, nor Boy: + 

He neither smacked his whip, nor blew his horn, + 

But gazed upon the spoil with silent joy. + 

Close to the thorn on which Sir Walter leaned, + 

Stood his dumb partner in this glorious act; + 

Weak as a lamb the hour that it is yeaned, + 

And foaming like a mountain cataract. + 

Upon his side the Hart was lying stretched: + 

His nose half-touched a spring beneath a hill, + 

And with the last deep groan his breath had fetched + 

The waters of the spring were trembling still. + 

And now, too happy for repose or rest, + 

(Was never man in such a joyful case!) + 

Sir Walter walked all round, north, south, and west, + 

And gazed and gazed upon that darling place. + 

And climbing up the hill⁠—(it was at least + 

Nine roods of sheer ascent) Sir Walter found + 

Three several hoof-marks which the hunted Beast + 

Had left imprinted on the verdant ground. + 

Sir Walter wiped his face and cried, “Till now + 

Such sight was never seen by living eyes: + 

Three leaps have borne him from this lofty brow, + 

Down to the very fountain where he lies. + 

I’ll build a Pleasure-house upon this spot, + 

And a small Arbour, made for rural joy; + 

’Twill be the Traveller’s shed, the Pilgrim’s cot, + 

A place of love for Damsels that are coy. + 

A cunning Artist will I have to frame + 

A bason for that Fountain in the dell; + 

And they who do make mention of the same + 

From this day forth, shall call it Hart-Leap Well. + 

And, gallant brute! to make thy praises known, + 

Another monument shall here be raised; + 

Three several Pillars, each a rough hewn Stone, + 

And planted where thy hoofs the turf have grazed. + 

And in the summer-time when days are long, + 

I will come hither with my Paramour; + 

And with the Dancers, and the Minstrel’s song, + 

We will make merry in that pleasant Bower. + 

Till the foundations of the mountains fail + 

My Mansion with its Arbour shall endure;⁠— + 

The joy of them who till the fields of Swale, + 

And them who dwell among the woods of Ure!” + 

Then home he went, and left the Hart, stone-dead, + 

With breathless nostrils stretched above the spring. + 

And soon the Knight performed what he had said, + 

The fame whereof through many a land did ring. + 

Ere thrice the moon into her port had steered, + 

A Cup of Stone received the living Well; + 

Three Pillars of rude stone Sir Walter reared, + 

And built a House of Pleasure in the dell. + 

And near the fountain, flowers of stature tall + 

With trailing plants and trees were intertwined, + 

Which soon composed a little sylvan Hall, + 

A leafy shelter from the sun and wind. + 

And thither, when the summer days were long, + 

Sir Walter journeyed with his Paramour; + 

And with the Dancers and the Minstrel’s song + 

Made merriment within that pleasant Bower. + 

The Knight, Sir Walter, died in course of time, + 

And his bones lie in his paternal vale.⁠— + 

But there is matter for a second rhyme, + 

And I to this would add another tale. + 

Part + 

Second + 

The moving accident is not my trade: + 

To freeze the blood I have no ready arts: + 

’Tis my delight, alone in summer shade, + 

To pipe a simple song to thinking hearts. + 

As I from Hawes to Richmond did repair, + 

It chanced that I saw standing in a dell + 

Three Aspens at three corners of a square, + 

And one, not four yards distant, near a Well. + 

What this imported I could ill divine: + 

And, pulling now the rein my horse to stop, + 

I saw three Pillars standing in a line, + 

The last Stone Pillar on a dark hill-top. + 

The trees were gray, with neither arms nor head; + 

Half-wasted the square Mound of tawny green; + 

So that you just might say, as then I said, + 

“Here in old time the hand of man has been.” + 

I looked upon the hills both far and near, + 

More doleful place did never eye survey; + 

It seemed as if the spring-time came not here, + 

And Nature here were willing to decay. + 

I stood in various thoughts and fancies lost, + 

When one, who was in Shepherd’s garb attired, + 

Came up the Hollow. Him did I accost, + 

And what this place might be I then inquired. + 

The Shepherd stopped, and that same story told + 

Which in my former rhyme I have rehearsed. + 

“A jolly place,” said he, “in times of old! + 

But something ails it now; the spot is curst. + 

You see these lifeless Stumps of aspen wood⁠— + 

Some say that they are beeches, others elms⁠— + 

These were the Bower; and here a Mansion stood, + 

The finest palace of a hundred realms! + 

The Arbour does its own condition tell; + 

You see the Stones, the Fountain, and the Stream, + 

But as to the great Lodge! you might as well + 

Hunt half a day for a forgotten dream. + 

There’s neither dog nor heifer, horse nor sheep, + 

Will wet his lips within that Cup of Stone; + 

And oftentimes, when all are fast asleep, + 

This water doth send forth a dolorous groan. + 

Some say that here a murder has been done, + 

And blood cries out for blood: but, for my part, + 

I’ve guessed, when I’ve been sitting in the sun, + 

That it was all for that unhappy Hart. + 

What thoughts must through the creature’s brain have passed! + 

From the stone upon the summit of the steep + 

Are but three bounds⁠—and look, Sir, at this last⁠— + 

—O Master! it has been a cruel leap. + 

For thirteen hours he ran a desperate race; + 

And in my simple mind we cannot tell + 

What cause the Hart might have to love this place, + 

And come and make his death-bed near the Well. + 

Here on the grass perhaps asleep he sank, + 

Lulled by this Fountain in the summer-tide; + 

This water was perhaps the first he drank + 

When he had wandered from his mother’s side. + 

In April here beneath the scented thorn + 

He heard the birds their morning carols sing; + 

And he, perhaps, for aught we know, was born + 

Not half a furlong from that self-same spring. + 

But now here’s neither grass nor pleasant shade; + 

The sun on drearier Hollow never shone: + 

So will it be, as I have often said, + 

Till Trees, and Stones, and Fountain all are gone.” + 

“Gray-headed Shepherd, thou hast spoken well; + 

Small difference lies between thy creed and mine: + 

This Beast not unobserved by Nature fell; + 

His death was mourned by sympathy divine. + 

The Being, that is in the clouds and air, + 

That is in the green leaves among the groves, + 

Maintains a deep and reverential care + 

For them the quiet creatures whom he loves. + 

The Pleasure-house is dust:⁠—behind, before, + 

This is no common waste, no common gloom; + 

But Nature, in due course of time, once more + 

Shall here put on her beauty and her bloom. + 

She leaves these objects to a slow decay, + 

That what we are, and have been, may be known; + 

But, at the coming of the milder day, + 

These monuments shall all be overgrown. + 

One lesson, Shepherd, let us two divide, + 

Taught both by what she shows, and what conceals, + 

Never to blend our pleasure or our pride + 

With sorrow of the meanest thing that feels.” + 

There Was a Boy + 

There was a Boy, ye knew him well, ye Cliffs + 

And Islands of Winander! many a time, + 

At evening, when the stars had just begun + 

To move along the edges of the hills, + 

Rising or setting, would he stand alone, + 

Beneath the trees, or by the glimmering lake; + 

And there, with fingers interwoven, both hands + 

Pressed closely palm to palm and to his mouth + 

Uplifted, he, as through an instrument, + 

Blew mimic hootings to the silent owls + 

That they might answer him. And they would shout + 

Across the watery vale, and shout again + 

Responsive to his call, with quivering peals, + 

And long halloos, and screams, and echoes loud + 

Redoubled and redoubled; concourse wild + 

Of mirth and jocund din! And, when it chanced + 

That pauses of deep silence mocked his skill, + 

Then, sometimes, in that silence, while he hung + 

Listening, a gentle shock of mild surprise + 

Has carried far into his heart the voice + 

Of mountain-torrents; or the visible scene + 

Would enter unawares into his mind + 

With all its solemn imagery, its rocks, + 

Its woods, and that uncertain heaven, received + 

Into the bosom of the steady lake. + 

This Boy was taken from his Mates, and died + 

In childhood, ere he was ten years old. + 

Fair are the woods, and beauteous is the spot, + 

The Vale where he was born: the Church-yard hangs + 

Upon a slope above the Village School, + 

And there, along that bank, when I have passed + 

At evening, I believe, that oftentimes + 

A full half-hour together I have stood + 

Mute⁠—looking at the grave in which he lies. + 

The Brothers + 

A Pastoral Poem + 

“These Tourists, Heaven preserve us! needs must live + 

A profitable life: some glance along, + 

Rapid and gay, as if the earth were air, + 

And they were butterflies to wheel about + 

Long as their summer lasted: some, as wise, + 

Upon the forehead of a jutting crag + 

Sit perched, with book and pencil on their knee, + 

And look and scribble, scribble on and look, + 

Until a man might travel twelve stout miles, + 

Or reap an acre of his neighbour’s corn. + 

But, for that moping Son of Idleness, + 

Why can he tarry yonder? + 

—In our church-yard + 

Is neither epitaph nor monument, + 

Tomb-stone nor name⁠—only the turf we tread, + 

And a few natural graves.” To Jane, his wife, + 

Thus spake the homely Priest of Ennerdale. + 

It was a July evening; and he sate + 

Upon the long stone-seat beneath the eaves + 

Of his old cottage, as it chanced, that day, + 

Employed in winter’s work. Upon the stone + 

His Wife sate near him, teasing matted wool, + 

While, from the twin cards toothed with glittering wire, + 

He fed the spindle of his youngest Child, + 

Who turned her large round wheel in the open air + 

With back and forward steps. Towards the field + 

In which the Parish Chapel stood alone, + 

Girt round with a bare ring of mossy wall, + 

While half an hour went by, the Priest had sent + 

Many a long look of wonder, and at last, + 

Risen from his seat, beside the snow-white ridge + 

Of carded wool which the old man had piled + 

He laid his implements with gentle care, + 

Each in the other locked; and, down the path + 

Which from his cottage to the church-yard led, + 

He took his way, impatient to accost + 

The Stranger, whom he saw still lingering there. + 

’Twas one well known to him in former days, + 

A Shepherd-lad: who ere his thirteenth year + 

Had changed his calling, with the mariners + 

A fellow-mariner, and so had fared + 

Through twenty seasons; but he had been reared + 

Among the mountains, and he in his heart + 

Was half a Shepherd on the stormy seas. + 

Oft in the piping shrouds had Leonard heard + 

The tones of waterfalls, and inland sounds + 

Of caves and trees:⁠—and, when the regular wind + 

Between the tropics filled the steady sail, + 

And blew with the same breath through days and weeks, + 

Lengthening invisibly its weary line + 

Along the cloudless Main, he, in those hours + 

Of tiresome indolence, would often hang + 

Over the vessel’s side, and gaze and gaze, + 

And, while the broad green wave and sparkling foam + 

Flashed round him images and hues, that wrought + 

In union with the employment of his heart, + 

He, thus by feverish passion overcome, + 

Even with the organs of his bodily eye, + 

Below him, in the bosom of the deep, + 

Saw mountains, saw the forms of sheep that grazed + 

On verdant hills, with dwellings among trees, + 

And shepherds clad in the same country gray + 

Which he himself had worn. + 

And now at length + 

From perils manifold, with some small wealth + 

Acquired by traffic in the Indian Isles, + 

To his paternal home he is returned, + 

With a determined purpose to resume + 

The life which he lived there; both for the sake + 

Of many darling pleasures, and the love + 

Which to an only brother he has borne + 

In all his hardships, since that happy time + 

When, whether it blew foul or fair, they two + 

Were brother Shepherds on their native hills. + 

—They were the last of all their race: and now + 

When Leonard had approached his home, his heart + 

Failed in him; and, not venturing to inquire + 

Tidings of one whom he so dearly loved, + 

Towards the church-yard he had turned aside, + 

That, as he knew in what particular spot + 

His family were laid, he thence might learn + 

If still his Brother lived, or to the file + 

Another grave was added.⁠—He had found + 

Another grave, near which a full half-hour + 

He had remained; but, as he gazed, there grew + 

Such a confusion in his memory, + 

That he began to doubt, and he had hopes + 

That he had seen this heap of turf before, + 

That it was not another grave, but one + 

He had forgotten. He had lost his path, + 

As up the vale he came that afternoon, + 

Through fields which once had been well known to him. + 

And oh! what joy the recollection now + 

Sent to his heart! He lifted up his eyes, + 

And looking round he thought that he perceived + 

Strange alteration wrought on every side + 

Among the woods and fields, and that the rocks, + 

And the eternal hills, themselves were changed. + 

By this the Priest, who down the field had come + 

Unseen by Leonard, at the church-yard gate + 

Stopped short, and thence, at leisure, limb by limb + 

He scanned him with a gay complacency. + 

Aye, thought the Vicar, smiling to himself, + 

’Tis one of those who needs must leave the path + 

Of the world’s business to go wild alone: + 

His arms have a perpetual holiday; + 

The happy Man will creep about the fields + 

Following his fancies by the hour, to bring + 

Tears down his cheeks, or solitary smiles + 

Into his face, until the setting sun + 

Write Fool upon his forehead. Planted thus + 

Beneath a shed that overarched the gate + 

Of this rude church-yard, till the stars appeared + 

The good man might have communed with himself, + 

But that the stranger, who had left the grave, + 

Approached; he recognized the Priest at once, + 

And, after greetings interchanged, and given + 

By Leonard to the Vicar as to one + 

Unknown to him, this dialogue ensued. + 

Leonard + 

You live, Sir, in these dales, a quiet life: + 

Your years make up one peaceful family; + 

And who would grieve and fret, if, welcome come + 

And welcome gone, they are so like each other, + 

They cannot be remembered? Scarce a funeral + 

Comes to this church-yard once in eighteen months; + 

And yet, some changes must take place among you: + 

And you, who dwell here, even among these rocks + 

Can trace the finger of mortality, + 

And see, that with our threescore years and ten + 

We are not all that perish.⁠—I remember, + 

For many years ago I passed this road, + 

There was a foot-way all along the fields + 

By the brook-side⁠—’tis gone⁠—and that dark cleft! + 

To me it does not seem to wear the face + 

Which then it had. + 

Priest + 

Why, Sir, for aught I know, + 

That chasm is much the same⁠— + 

Leonard + 

But, surely, yonder⁠— + 

Priest + 

Aye, there, indeed, your memory is a friend + 

That does not play you false⁠—On that tall pike + 

(It is the loneliest place of all these hills + 

There were two Springs which bubbled side by side, + 

As if they had been made that they might be + 

Companions for each other: ten years back, + 

Close to those brother fountains, the huge crag + 

Was rent with lightning⁠—one is dead and gone, + 

The other, left behind, is flowing still.⁠— + 

For accidents and changes such as these, + 

Why, we have store of them! a water-spout + 

Will bring down half a mountain; what a feast + 

For folks that wander up and down like you + 

To see an acre’s breadth of that wide cliff + 

One roaring cataract!⁠—a sharp May storm + 

Will come with loads of January snow, + 

And in one night send twenty score of sheep + 

To feed the ravens; or a Shepherd dies + 

By some untoward death among the rocks: + 

The ice breaks up and sweeps away a bridge⁠— + 

A wood is felled:⁠—and then for our own homes! + 

A Child is born or christened, a Field ploughed, + 

A Daughter sent to service, a Web spun, + 

The old House-clock is decked with a new face; + 

And hence, so far from wanting facts or dates + 

To chronicle the time, we all have here + 

A pair of diaries, one serving, Sir, + 

For the whole dale, and one for each fire-side⁠— + 

Yours was a stranger’s judgment: for Historians, + 

Commend me to these valleys. + 

Leonard + 

Yet your Church-yard + 

Seems, if such freedom may be used with you, + 

To say that you are heedless of the past. + 

An orphan could not find his mother’s grave: + 

Here’s neither head- nor foot-stone, plate of brass, + 

Cross-bones or skull, type of our earthly state + 

Or emblem of our hopes: the dead man’s home + 

Is but a fellow to that pasture-field. + 

Priest + 

Why, there, Sir, is a thought that’s new to me. + 

The Stone-cutters, ’tis true, might beg their bread + 

If every English Church-yard were like ours: + 

Yet your conclusion wanders from the truth. + 

We have no need of names and epitaphs; + 

We talk about the dead by our fire-sides, + 

And then, for our immortal part! we want + 

No symbols, Sir, to tell us that plain tale: + 

The thought of death sits easy on the man + 

Who has been born and dies among the mountains. + 

Leonard + 

Your Dalesmen, then, do in each other’s thoughts + 

Possess a kind of second life: no doubt + 

You, Sir, could help me to the history + 

Of half these Graves? + 

Priest + 

For eight-score winters past, + 

With what I’ve witnessed, and with what I’ve heard, + 

Perhaps I might; and, on a winter’s evening, + 

If you were seated at my chimney’s nook, + 

By turning o’er these hillocks one by one + 

We two could travel, Sir, through a strange round, + 

Yet all in the broad high-way of the world. + 

Now there’s a grave⁠—your foot is half upon it, + 

It looks just like the rest; and yet that Man + 

Died broken-hearted. + 

Leonard + 

’Tis a common case. + 

We’ll take another: who is he that lies + 

Beneath yon ridge, the last of those three graves? + 

It touches on that piece of native rock + 

Left in the church-yard wall. + 

Priest + 

That’s Walter Ewbank. + 

He had as white a head and fresh a cheek + 

As ever were produced by youth and age + 

Engendering in the blood of hale fourscore. + 

For five long generations had the heart + 

Of Walter’s forefathers o’erflowed the bounds + 

Of their inheritance, that single cottage⁠— + 

You see it yonder!⁠—and those few green fields. + 

They toiled and wrought, and still, from Sire to Son, + 

Each struggled, and each yielded as before + 

A little⁠—yet a little⁠—and old Walter, + 

They left to him the family heart, and land + 

With other burthens than the crop it bore. + 

Year after year the old man still kept up + 

A cheerful mind, and buffeted with bond, + 

Interest and mortgages; at last he sank, + 

And went into his grave before his time. + 

Poor Walter! whether it was care that spurred him + 

God only knows, but to the very last + 

He had the lightest foot in Ennerdale: + 

His pace was never that of an old man: + 

I almost see him tripping down the path + 

With his two Grandsons after him⁠—but You, + 

Unless our Landlord be your host to-night, + 

Have far to travel, and in these rough paths + 

Even in the longest day of midsummer⁠— + 

Leonard + 

But these two Orphans! + 

Priest + 

Orphans! such they were⁠— + 

Yet not while Walter lived⁠—for, though their parents + 

Lay buried side by side as now they lie, + 

The old Man was a father to the boys, + 

Two fathers in one father: and if tears, + 

Shed when he talked of them where they were not, + 

And hauntings from the infirmity of love, + 

Are aught of what makes up a mother’s heart, + 

This old Man in the day of his old age + 

Was half a mother to them.⁠—If you weep, Sir, + 

To hear a Stranger talking about Strangers, + 

Heaven bless you when you are among your kindred! + 

Aye. You may turn that way⁠—it is a grave + 

Which will bear looking at. + 

Leonard + 

These Boys⁠—I hope + 

They loved this good old Man?⁠— + 

Priest + 

They did⁠—and truly: + 

But that was what we almost overlooked, + 

They were such darlings of each other. For + 

Though from their cradles they had lived with Walter, + 

The only Kinsman near them in the house, + 

Yet he being old, they had much love to spare, + 

And it all went into each other’s hearts. + 

Leonard, the elder by just eighteen months, + 

Was two years taller: ’twas a joy to see, + 

To hear, to meet them! from their house the School + 

Was distant three short miles⁠—and in the time + 

Of storm and thaw, when every water-course + 

And unbridged stream, such as you may have noticed + 

Crossing our roads at every hundred steps, + 

Was swoln into a noisy rivulet, + 

Would Leonard then, when elder boys perhaps + 

Remained at home, go staggering through the fords + 

Bearing his Brother on his back. I’ve seen him, + 

On windy days, in one of those stray brooks, + 

Aye, more than once I’ve seen him mid-leg deep, + 

Their two books lying both on a dry stone + 

Upon the hither side: and once I said, + 

As I remember, looking round these rocks + 

And hills on which we all of us were born, + 

That God who made the great book of the world + 

Would bless such piety⁠— + 

Leonard + 

It may be then⁠— + 

Priest + 

Never did worthier lads break English bread! + 

The finest Sunday that the Autumn saw, + 

With all its mealy clusters of ripe nuts, + 

Could never keep these boys away from church, + 

Or tempt them to an hour of sabbath breach. + 

Leonard and James! I warrant, every corner + 

Among these rocks, and every hollow place + 

Where foot could come, to one or both of them + 

Was known as well as to the flowers that grow there. + 

Like Roe-bucks they went bounding o’er the hills: + 

They played like two young Ravens on the crags: + 

Then they could write, aye and speak too, as well + 

As many of their betters⁠—and for Leonard! + 

The very night before he went away, + 

In my own house I put into his hand + 

A Bible, and I’d wager twenty pounds, + 

That, if he is alive, he has it yet. + 

Leonard + 

It seems, these Brothers have not lived to be + 

A comfort to each other.⁠— + 

Priest + 

That they might + 

Live to that end, is what both old and young + 

In this our valley all of us have wished, + 

And what, for my part, I have often prayed: + 

But Leonard⁠— + 

Leonard + 

Then James still is left among you? + 

Priest + 

’Tis of the elder Brother I am speaking: + 

They had an Uncle, he was at that time + 

A thriving man, and trafficked on the seas: + 

And, but for this same Uncle, to this hour + 

Leonard had never handled rope or shroud. + 

For the Boy loved the life which we lead here; + 

And, though a very Stripling, twelve years old, + 

His soul was knit to this his native soil. + 

But, as I said, old Walter was too weak + 

To strive with such a torrent; when he died, + 

The Estate and House were sold, and all their Sheep, + 

A pretty flock, and which, for aught I know, + 

Had clothed the Ewbanks for a thousand years. + 

Well⁠—all was gone, and they were destitute. + 

And Leonard, chiefly for his Brother’s sake, + 

Resolved to try his fortune on the seas. + 

’Tis now twelve years since we had tidings from him. + 

If there was one among us who had heard + 

That Leonard Ewbank was come home again, + 

From the great Gavel, down by Leeza’s Banks, + 

And down the Enna, far as Egremont, + 

The day would be a very festival, + 

And those two bells of ours, which there you see + 

Hanging in the open air⁠—but, O good Sir! + 

This is sad talk⁠—they’ll never sound for him + 

Living or dead.⁠—When last we heard of him + 

He was in slavery among the Moors + 

Upon the Barbary Coast.⁠—’Twas not a little + 

That would bring down his spirit, and, no doubt, + 

Before it ended in his death, the Lad + 

Was sadly crossed⁠—Poor Leonard! when we parted, + 

He took me by the hand and said to me, + 

If ever the day came when he was rich, + 

He would return, and on his Father’s Land + 

He would grow old among us. + 

Leonard + 

If that day + 

Should come, ’twould needs be a glad day for him; + 

He would himself, no doubt, be happy then + 

As any that should meet him⁠— + 

Priest + 

Happy! Sir⁠— + 

Leonard + 

You said his kindred all were in their graves, + 

And that he had one Brother⁠— + 

Priest + 

That is but + 

A fellow tale of sorrow. From his youth + 

James, though not sickly, yet was delicate; + 

And Leonard being always by his side + 

Had done so many offices about him, + 

That, though he was not of a timid nature, + 

Yet still the spirit of a Mountain Boy + 

In him was somewhat checked; and, when his Brother + 

Was gone to sea and he was left alone, + 

The little colour that he had was soon + 

Stolen from his cheek, he drooped, and pined and pined⁠— + 

Leonard + 

But these are all the graves of full-grown men! + 

Priest + 

Aye, Sir, that passed away: we took him to us. + 

He was the Child of all the dale⁠—he lived + 

Three months with one, and six months with another; + 

And wanted neither food, nor clothes, nor love: + 

And many, many happy days were his. + 

But, whether blithe or sad, ’tis my belief + 

His absent Brother still was at his heart. + 

And, when he lived beneath our roof, we found + 

(A practice till this time unknown to him) + 

That often, rising from his bed at night, + 

He in his sleep would walk about, and sleeping + 

He sought his Brother Leonard.⁠—You are moved! + 

Forgive me, Sir: before I spoke to you, + 

I judged you most unkindly. + 

Leonard + 

But this Youth, + 

How did he die at last? + 

Priest + 

One sweet May morning, + 

It will be twelve years since, when Spring returns, + 

He had gone forth among the new-dropped lambs, + 

With two or three Companions whom it chanced + 

Some further business summoned to a house + 

Which stands at the Dale-head. James, tired perhaps, + 

Or from some other cause, remained behind. + 

You see yon Precipice⁠—it almost looks + 

Like some vast building made of many crags; + 

And in the midst is one particular rock + 

That rises like a column from the vale, + 

Whence by our shepherds it is called the Pillar. + 

James pointed to its summit, over which + 

They all had purposed to return together, + 

And told them that he there would wait for them: + 

They parted, and his Comrades passed that way + 

Some two hours after, but they did not find him + 

Upon the Pillar⁠—at the appointed place. + 

Of this they took no heed: but one of them, + 

Going by chance, at night, into the house + 

Which at that time was James’s home, there learned + 

That nobody had seen him all that day: + 

The morning came, and still, he was unheard of: + 

The neighbours were alarmed, and to the Brook + 

Some went, and some towards the Lake: ere noon + 

They found him at the foot of that same Rock⁠— + 

Dead, and with mangled limbs. The third day after + 

I buried him, poor Lad, and there he lies. + 

Leonard + 

And that then is + 

his grave?⁠—Before his death + 

You said that he saw many happy years? + 

Priest + 

Aye, that he did⁠— + 

Leonard + 

And all went well with him⁠— + 

Priest + 

If he had one, the Lad had twenty homes. + 

Leonard + 

And you believe, then, that his mind was easy⁠— + 

Priest + 

Yes, long before he died, he found that time + 

Is a true friend to sorrow; and unless + 

His thoughts were turned on Leonard’s luckless fortune, + 

He talked about him with a cheerful love. + 

Leonard + 

He could not come to an unhallowed end! + 

Priest + 

Nay, God forbid! You recollect I mentioned + 

A habit which disquietude and grief + 

Had brought upon him; and we all conjectured + 

That, as the day was warm, he had lain down + 

Upon the grass, and, waiting for his comrades, + 

He there had fallen asleep; that in his sleep + 

He to the margin of the precipice + 

Had walked, and from the summit had fallen head-long. + 

And so no doubt he perished: at the time, + 

We guess, that in his hands he must have had + 

His Shepherd’s staff; for midway in the cliff + 

It had been caught; and there for many years + 

It hung⁠—and mouldered there. + 

The Priest here ended⁠— + 

The Stranger would have thanked him, but he felt + 

Tears rushing in. Both left the spot in silence; + 

And Leonard, when they reached the church-yard gate, + 

As the Priest lifted up the latch, turned round, + 

And, looking at the grave, he said, “My Brother.” + 

The Vicar did not hear the words: and now, + 

Pointing towards the Cottage, he entreated + 

That Leonard would partake his homely fare: + 

The other thanked him with a fervent voice, + 

But added, that, the evening being calm, + 

He would pursue his journey. So they parted. + 

It was not long ere Leonard reached a grove + 

That overhung the road: he there stopped short, + 

And, sitting down beneath the trees, reviewed + 

All that the Priest had said: his early years + 

Were with him in his heart: his cherished hopes, + 

And thoughts which had been his an hour before, + 

All pressed on him with such a weight, that now, + 

This vale, where he had been so happy, seemed + 

A place in which he could not bear to live: + 

So he relinquished all his purposes. + 

He travelled on to Egremont: and thence, + 

That night, he wrote a letter to the Priest + 

Reminding him of what had passed between them; + 

And adding, with a hope to be forgiven, + 

That it was from the weakness of his heart + 

He had not dared to tell him who he was. + 

This done, he went on shipboard, and is now + 

A Seaman, a gray-headed Mariner. + 

Ellen Irwin + 

Or, The Braes of Kirtle + 

Fair Ellen Irwin, when she sate + 

Upon the Braes of Kirtle, + 

Was lovely as a Grecian Maid + 

Adorned with wreaths of myrtle. + 

Young Adam Bruce beside her lay; + 

And there did they beguile the day + 

With love and gentle speeches, + 

Beneath the budding beeches. + 

From many Knights and many Squires + 

The Bruce had been selected; + 

And Gordon, fairest of them all, + 

By Ellen was rejected. + 

Sad tidings to that noble Youth! + 

For it may be proclaimed with truth, + 

If Bruce hath loved sincerely, + 

The Gordon loves as dearly. + 

But what is Gordon’s beauteous face? + 

And what are Gordon’s crosses + 

To them who sit by Kirtle’s Braes + 

Upon the verdant mosses? + 

Alas that ever he was born! + 

The Gordon, couched behind a thorn, + 

Sees them and their caressing, + 

Beholds them blest and blessing. + 

Proud Gordon cannot bear the thoughts + 

That through his brain are travelling, + 

And, starting up, to Bruce’s heart + 

He lanched a deadly javelin! + 

Fair Ellen saw it when it came, + 

And, stepping forth to meet the same, + 

Did with her body cover + 

The Youth her chosen lover. + 

And, falling into Bruce’s arms, + 

Thus died the beauteous Ellen, + 

Thus from the heart of her true-love + 

The mortal spear repelling. + 

And Bruce, as soon as he had slain + 

The Gordon, sailed away to Spain; + 

And fought with rage incessant + 

Against the Moorish Crescent. + 

But many days, and many months, + 

And many years ensuing, + 

This wretched Knight did vainly seek + 

The death that he was wooing: + 

And coming back across the wave, + 

Without a groan on Ellen’s grave + 

His body he extended, + 

And there his sorrow ended. + 

Now ye, who willingly have heard + 

The tale I have been telling, + 

May in Kirkonnel church-yard view + 

The grave of lovely Ellen: + 

By Ellen’s side the Bruce is laid; + 

And, for the stone upon his head, + 

May no rude hand deface it, + 

And its forlorn Hic Jacet! + 

Strange Fits of Passion I Have Known + 

Strange fits of passion I have known: + 

And I will dare to tell, + 

But in the Lover’s ear alone, + 

What once to me befell. + 

When she I loved, was strong and gay + 

And like a rose in June, + 

I to her cottage bent my way, + 

Beneath the evening Moon. + 

Upon the Moon I fixed my eye, + 

All over the wide lea: + 

My Horse trudged on⁠—and we drew nigh + 

Those paths so dear to me. + 

And now we reached the orchard plot; + 

And, as we climbed the hill, + 

Towards the roof of Lucy’s cot + 

The Moon descended still. + 

In one of those sweet dreams I slept, + 

Kind Nature’s gentlest boon! + 

And, all the while, my eyes I kept + 

On the descending Moon. + 

My Horse moved on; hoof after hoof + 

He raised, and never stopped: + 

When down behind the cottage roof + 

At once the Planet dropped. + 

What fond and wayward thoughts will slide + 

Into a Lover’s head⁠— + 

“O mercy!” to myself I cried, + 

“If Lucy should be dead!” + 

She Dwelt Among th’ Untrodden Ways + 

She dwelt among th’ untrodden ways + 

Beside the springs of Dove, + 

A Maid whom there were none to praise, + 

And very few to love. + 

A Violet by a mossy stone + 

Half-hidden from the eye! + 

—Fair as a star, when only one + 

Is shining in the sky. + 

She lived unknown, and few could know + 

When Lucy ceased to be; + 

But she is in her Grave, and oh! + 

The difference to me. + 

A slumber did my spirit seal; + 

I had no human fears: + 

She seemed a thing that could not feel + 

The touch of earthly years. + 

No motion has she now, no force; + 

She neither hears nor sees, + 

Rolled round in earth’s diurnal course + 

With rocks and stones and trees! + 

The Waterfall and the Eglantine + 

“Begone, thou fond presumptuous Elf,” + 

Exclaimed a thundering Voice, + 

“Nor dare to thrust thy foolish self + 

Between me and my choice!” + 

A falling Water swoln with snows + 

Thus spake to a poor Briar-rose, + 

That, all bespattered with his foam, + 

And dancing high, and dancing low, + 

Was living, as a child might know, + 

In an unhappy home. + 

“Dost thou presume my course to block? + 

Off, off! or, puny Thing! + 

I’ll hurl thee headlong with the rock + 

To which thy fibres cling.” + 

The Flood was tyrannous and strong; + 

The patient Briar suffered long, + 

Nor did he utter groan or sigh, + 

Hoping the danger would be past: + 

But seeing no relief, at last + 

He ventured to reply. + 

“Ah!” said the Briar, “blame me not; + 

Why should we dwell in strife? + 

We who in this, our natal spot, + 

Once lived a happy life! + 

You stirred me on my rocky bed⁠— + 

What pleasure through my veins you spread! + 

The Summer long from day to day + 

My leaves you freshened and bedewed; + 

Nor was it common gratitude + 

That did your cares repay. + 

“When Spring came on with bud and bell, + 

Among these rocks did I + 

Before you hang my wreath, to tell + 

That gentle days were nigh! + 

And in the sultry summer hours + 

I sheltered you with leaves and flowers; + 

And in my leaves, now shed and gone, + 

The Linnet lodged, and for us two + 

Chanted his pretty songs, when You + 

Had little voice or none. + 

“But now proud thoughts are in your breast⁠— + 

What grief is mine you see. + 

Ah! would you think, even yet how blest + 

Together we might be! + 

Though of both leaf and flower bereft, + 

Some ornaments to me are left⁠— + 

Rich store of scarlet hips is mine, + 

With which I in my humble way + 

Would deck you many a winter’s day, + 

A happy Eglantine!” + 

What more he said I cannot tell. + 

The stream came thundering down the dell, + 

And galloped loud and fast; + 

I listened, nor aught else could hear, + 

The Briar quaked⁠—and much I fear, + 

Those accents were his last. + 

The Oak and the Broom + 

A Pastoral + 

His simple truths did Andrew glean + 

Beside the babbling rills; + 

A careful student he had been + 

Among the woods and hills. + 

One winter’s night, when through the Trees + 

The wind was thundering, on his knees + 

His youngest born did Andrew hold: + 

And while the rest, a ruddy quire, + 

Were seated round their blazing fire, + 

This Tale the Shepherd told. + 

I saw a crag, a lofty stone + 

As ever tempest beat! + 

Out of its head an Oak had grown, + 

A Broom out of its feet. + 

The time was March, a cheerful noon⁠— + 

The thaw-wind with the breath of June + 

Breathed gently frem the warm South-west; + 

When, in a voice sedate with age, + 

This Oak, half giant and half sage, + 

His neighbour thus addressed: + 

“Eight weary weeks, through rock and clay, + 

Along this mountain’s edge + 

The Frost hath wrought both night and day, + 

Wedge driving after wedge. + 

Look up! and think, above your head + 

What trouble surely will be bred; + 

Last night I heard a crash⁠—’tis true, + 

The splinters took another road⁠— + 

I see them yonder⁠—what a load + 

For such a Thing as you! + 

“You are preparing as before + 

To deck your slender shape; + 

And yet, just three years back⁠—no more⁠— + 

You had a strange escape. + 

Down from yon Cliff a fragment broke, + 

It came, you know, with fire and smoke + 

And hitherward it bent its way. + 

This pond’rous Block was caught by me, + 

And o’er your head, as you may see, + 

’Tis hanging to this day! + 

“The Thing had better been asleep, + 

Whatever thing it were, + 

Or Breeze, or Bird, or Dog, or Sheep, + 

That first did plant you there. + 

For you and your green twigs decoy + 

The little witless Shepherd-boy + 

To come and slumber in your bower; + 

And, trust me, on some sultry noon, + 

Both you and he, Heaven knows how soon! + 

Will perish in one hour. + 

“From me this friendly warning take”⁠— + 

The Broom began to doze, + 

And thus to keep herself awake + 

Did gently interpose: + 

“My thanks for your discourse are due; + 

That it is true, and more than true, + 

I know, and I have known it long; + 

Frail is the bond, by which we hold + 

Our being, be we young or old, + 

Wise, foolish, weak or strong. + 

“Disasters, do the best we can, + 

Will reach both great and small; + 

And he is oft the wisest man, + 

Who is not wise at all. + 

For me, why should I wish to roam? + 

This spot is my paternal home, + 

It is my pleasant Heritage; + 

My Father many a happy year + 

Here spread his careless blossoms, here + 

Attained a good old age. + 

“Even such as his may be my lot. + 

What cause have I to haunt + 

My heart with terrors? Am I not + 

In truth a favoured plant! + 

The Spring for me a garland weaves + 

Of yellow flowers and verdant leaves; + 

And, when the Frost is in the sky, + 

My branches are so fresh and gay + 

That You might look at me and say, + 

This Plant can never die. + 

“The Butterfly, all green and gold, + 

To me hath often flown, + 

Here in my Blossoms to behold + 

Wings lovely as his own. + 

When grass is chill with rain or dew, + 

Beneath my shade the mother Ewe + 

Lies with her infant Lamb; I see + 

The love they to each other make, + 

And the sweet joy, which they partake, + 

It is a joy to me.” + 

Her voice was blithe, her heart was light; + 

The Broom might have pursued + 

Her speech, until the stars of night + 

Their journey had renewed. + 

But in the branches of the Oak + 

Two Ravens now began to croak + 

Their nuptial song, a gladsome air; + 

And to her own green bower the breeze + 

That instant brought two stripling Bees + 

To feed and murmur there. + 

One night the Wind came from the North + 

And blew a furious blast; + 

At break of day I ventured forth, + 

And near the Cliff I passed. + 

The storm had fallen upon the Oak + 

And struck him with a mighty stroke, + 

And whirled and whirled him far away; + 

And in one hospitable Cleft + 

The little careless Broom was left + 

To live for many a day. + 

Before I see another day, + 

Oh let my body die away! + 

In sleep I heard the northern gleams; + 

The stars they were among my dreams; + 

In sleep did I behold the skies, + 

I saw the crackling flashes drive; + 

And yet they are upon my eyes, + 

And yet I am alive. + 

Before I see another day, + 

Oh let my body die away! + 

My fire is dead: it knew no pain; + 

Yet it is dead, and I remain. + 

All stiff with ice the ashes lie; + 

And they are dead, and I will die. + 

When I was well, I wished to live, + 

For clothes, for warmth, for food, and fire; + 

But they to me no joy can give, + 

No pleasure now, and no desire. + 

Then here contented will I lie! + 

Alone I cannot fear to die. + 

Alas! you might have dragged me on + 

Another day, a single one! + 

Too soon despair o’er me prevailed; + 

Too soon my heartless spirit failed; + 

When you were gone my limbs were stronger; + 

And oh how grievously I rue, + 

That, afterwards, a little longer, + 

My Friends, I did not follow you! + 

For strong and without pain I lay, + 

My Friends, when you were gone away. + 

My Child! they gave thee to another, + 

A woman who was not thy mother. + 

When from my arms my Babe they took, + 

On me how strangely did he look! + 

Through his whole body something ran, + 

A most strange something did I see; + 

—As if he strove to be a man, + 

That he might pull the sledge for me. + 

And then he stretched his arms, how wild! + 

Oh mercy! like a little child. + 

My little joy! my little pride! + 

In two days more I must have died. + 

Then do not weep and grieve for me; + 

I feel I must have died with thee. + 

Oh wind that o’er my head art flying + 

The way my Friends their course did bend, + 

I should not feel the pain of dying, + 

Could I with thee a message send! + 

Too soon, my Friends, you went away; + 

For I had many things to say. + 

I’ll follow you across the snow; + 

You travel heavily and slow: + 

In spite of all my weary pain, + 

I’ll look upon your tents again. + 

—My fire is dead, and snowy white + 

The water which beside it stood; + 

The wolf has come to me to-night, + 

And he has stolen away my food. + 

For ever left alone am I, + 

Then wherefore should I fear to die? + 

My journey will be shortly run, + 

I shall not see another sun; + 

I cannot lift my limbs to know + 

If they have any life or no. + 

My poor forsaken child! if I + 

For once could have thee close to me, + 

With happy heart I then should die, + 

And my last thoughts would happy be. + 

I feel my body die away, + 

I shall not see another day. + 

Lucy Gray + 

Oft I had heard of Lucy Gray: + 

And, when I crossed the Wild, + 

I chanced to see at break of day + 

The solitary Child. + 

No Mate, no comrade Lucy knew; + 

She dwelt on a wide Moor, + 

—The sweetest thing that ever grew + 

Beside a human door! + 

You yet may spy the Fawn at play, + 

The Hare upon the Green; + 

But the sweet face of Lucy Gray + 

Will never more be seen. + 

“To-night will be a stormy night⁠— + 

You to the Town must go; + 

And take a lantern, Child, to light + 

Your Mother through the snow.” + 

“That, Father! will I gladly do; + 

’Tis scarcely afternoon⁠— + 

The Minster-clock has just struck two, + 

And yonder is the Moon.” + 

At this the Father raised his hook + 

And snapped a faggot-band; + 

He plied his work, and Lucy took + 

The lantern in her hand. + 

Not blither is the mountain roe: + 

With many a wanton stroke + 

Her feet disperse the powdery snow, + 

That rises up like smoke. + 

The storm came on before its time: + 

She wandered up and down; + 

And many a hill did Lucy climb, + 

But never reached the Town. + 

The wretched Parents all that night + 

Went shouting far and wide; + 

But there was neither sound nor sight + 

To serve them for a guide. + 

At day-break on a hill they stood + 

That overlooked the Moor; + 

And thence they saw the Bridge of wood, + 

A furlong from their door. + 

And now they homeward turned, and cried + 

“In Heaven we all shall meet!” + 

—When in the snow the Mother spied + 

The print of Lucy’s feet. + 

Then downward from the steep hill’s edge + 

They tracked the footmarks small; + 

And through the broken hawthorn-hedge, + 

And by the long stone-wall: + 

And then an open field they crossed: + 

The marks were still the same; + 

They tracked them on, nor ever lost; + 

And to the Bridge they came. + 

They followed from the snowy bank + 

The footmarks, one by one, + 

Into the middle of the plank; + 

And further there was none. + 

—Yet some maintain that to this day + 

She is a living Child; + 

That you may see sweet Lucy Gray + 

Upon the lonesome Wild. + 

O’er rough and smooth she trips along, + 

And never looks behind; + 

And sings a solitary song + 

That whistles in the wind. + 

’Tis Said, That Some Have Died for Love + 

’Tis said, that some have died for love: + 

And here and there a church-yard grave is found + 

In the cold North’s unhallowed ground, + 

Because the wretched Man himself had slain, + 

His love was such a grievous pain. + 

And there is one whom I five years have known; + 

He dwells alone + 

Upon Helvellyn’s side: + 

He loved⁠—the pretty Barbara died, + 

And thus he makes his moan: + 

Three years had Barbara in her grave been laid + 

When thus his moan he made: + 

“Oh move, thou Cottage, from behind that oak! + 

Or let the aged tree uprooted lie, + 

That in some other way yon smoke + 

May mount into the sky! + 

The clouds pass on; they from the heavens depart: + 

I look⁠—the sky is empty space; + 

I know not what I trace; + 

But, when I cease to look, my hand is on my heart. + 

“O! what a weight is in these shades! Ye leaves, + 

When will that dying murmur be supprest? + 

Your sound my heart of peace bereaves, + 

It robs my heart of rest. + 

Thou Thrush, that singest loud and loud and free, + 

Into yon row of willows flit, + 

Upon that alder sit; + 

Or sing another song, or choose another tree. + 

“Roll back, sweet Rill! back to thy mountain bounds, + 

And there for ever be thy waters chained! + 

For thou dost haunt the air with sounds + 

That cannot be sustained; + 

If still beneath that pine-tree’s ragged bough + 

Headlong yon waterfall must come, + 

Oh let it then be dumb!⁠— + 

Be any thing, sweet Rill, but that which thou art now. + 

“Thou Eglantine, whose arch so proudly towers, + 

(Even like the rainbow spanning half the vale) + 

Thou one fair shrub, oh! shed thy flowers, + 

And stir not in the gale. + 

For thus to see thee nodding in the air, + 

To see thy arch thus stretch and bend, + 

Thus rise and thus descend, + 

Disturbs me, till the sight is more than I can bear.” + 

The Man who makes this feverish complaint + 

Is one of giant stature, who could dance + 

Equipped from head to foot in iron mail. + 

Ah gentle Love! if ever thought was thine + 

To store up kindred hours for me, thy face + 

Turn from me, gentle Love! nor let me walk + 

Within the sound of Emma’s voice, or know + 

Such happiness as I have known today. + 

The Idle Shepherd-Boys + 

Or, Dungeon-Gill Force, a Pastoral + 

I + 

The valley rings with mirth and joy; + 

Among the hills the Echoes play + 

A never never ending song + 

To welcome in the May. + 

The Magpie chatters with delight; + 

The mountain Raven’s youngling Brood + 

Have left the Mother and the Nest; + 

And they go rambling east and west + 

In search of their own food; + 

Or through the glittering Vapors dart + 

In very wantonness of heart. + 

II + 

Beneath a rock, upon the grass, + 

Two Boys are sitting in the sun; + 

It seems they have no work to do, + 

Or that their work is done. + 

On pipes of sycamore they play + 

The fragments of a Christmas Hymn; + 

Or with that plant which in our dale + 

We call Stag-horn, or Fox’s Tail, + 

Their rusty Hats they trim: + 

And thus, as happy as the Day, + 

Those Shepherds wear the time away. + 

III + 

Along the river’s stony marge + 

The Sand-lark chants a joyous song; + 

The Thrush is busy in the wood, + 

And carols loud and strong. + 

A thousand Lambs are on the rocks, + 

All newly born! both earth and sky + 

Keep jubilee; and more than all, + 

Those Boys with their green Coronal; + 

They never hear the cry, + 

That plaintive cry! which up the hill + 

Comes from the depth of Dungeon-Gill. + 

IV + 

Said Walter, leaping from the ground, + 

“Down to the stump of yon old yew + 

We’ll for our Whistles run a race.” + 

—Away the Shepherds flew. + 

They leapt⁠—they ran⁠—and when they came + 

Right opposite to Dungeon-Gill, + 

Seeing that he should lose the prize, + 

“Stop!” to his comrade Walter cries⁠— + 

James stopped with no good will: + 

Said Walter then, “Your task is here, + 

’Twill keep you working half a year. + 

V + 

“Now cross where I shall cross⁠—come on, + 

And follow me where I shall lead”⁠— + 

The other took him at his word, + 

But did not like the deed. + 

It was a spot, which you may see + 

If ever you to Langdale go: + 

Into a chasm a mighty Block + 

Hath fallen, and made a Bridge of rock: + 

The gulf is deep below; + 

And in a bason black and small + 

Receives a lofty Waterfall. + 

VI + 

With staff in hand across the cleft + 

The Challenger began his march; + 

And now, all eyes and feet, hath gained + 

The middle of the arch. + 

When list! he hears a piteous moan⁠— + 

Again!⁠—his heart within him dies⁠— + 

His pulse is stopped, his breath is lost, + 

He totters, pale as any ghost, + 

And, looking down, he spies + 

A Lamb, that in the pool is pent + 

Within that black and frightful Rent. + 

VII + 

The Lamb had slipped into the stream, + 

And safe without a bruise or wound + 

The Cataract had borne him down + 

Into the gulf profound. + 

His Dam had seen him when he fell, + 

She saw him down the torrent borne; + 

And, while with all a mother’s love + 

She from the lofty rocks above + 

Sent forth a cry forlorn, + 

The Lamb, still swimming round and round, + 

Made answer to that plaintive sound. + 

VIII + 

When he had learnt what thing it was, + 

That sent this rueful cry; I ween, + 

The Boy recovered heart, and told + 

The sight which he had seen. + 

Both gladly now deferred their task; + 

Nor was there wanting other aid⁠— + 

A Poet, one who loves the brooks + 

Far better than the sages’ books, + 

By chance had thither strayed; + 

And there the helpless Lamb he found + 

By those huge rocks encompassed round. + 

IX + 

He drew it gently from the pool, + 

And brought it forth into the light: + 

The Shepherds met him with his Charge, + 

An unexpected sight! + 

Into their arms the Lamb they took, + 

Said they, “He’s neither maimed nor scarred.” + 

Then up the steep ascent they hied, + 

And placed him at his Mother’s side; + 

And gently did the Bard + 

Those idle Shepherd-boys upbraid, + 

And bade them better mind their trade. + 

Poor Susan + 

At the corner of Wood-street, when day-light appears, + 

There’s a Thrush that sings loud, it has sung for three years: + 

Poor Susan has passed by the spot, and has heard + 

In the silence of morning the song of the Bird. + 

’Tis a note of enchantment; what ails her? She sees + 

A mountain ascending, a vision of trees; + 

Bright volumes of vapour through Lothbury glide, + 

And a river flows on through the vale of Cheapside. + 

Green pastures she views in the midst of the dale, + 

Down which she so often has tripped with her pail; + 

And a single small cottage, a nest like a dove’s, + 

The one only Dwelling on earth that she loves. + 

She looks, and her Heart is in heaven: but they fade, + 

The mist and the river, the hill and the shade; + 

The stream will not flow, and the hill will not rise, + 

And the colours have all passed away from her eyes. + 

Inscription + 

For the Spot Where the Hermitage Stood on St. Herbert’s Island, Derwent-Water + 

If Thou in the dear love of some one Friend + 

Hast been so happy, that thou know’st what thoughts + 

Will, sometimes, in the happiness of love + 

Make the heart sick, then wilt thou reverence + 

This quiet spot.⁠—St. Herbert hither came, + 

And here, for many seasons, from the world + 

Removed, and the affections of the world, + 

He dwelt in solitude.⁠—But he had left + 

A Fellow-labourer, whom the good Man loved + 

As his own soul. And, when within his cave + 

Alone he knelt before the crucifix + 

While o’er the Lake the cataract of Lodore + 

Pealed to his orisons, and when he paced + 

Along the beach of this small isle and thought + 

Of his Companion, he would pray that both + 

Might die in the same moment. Nor in vain + 

So prayed he:⁠—as our Chronicles report, + 

Though here the Hermit numbered his last days, + 

Far from St. Cuthbert his beloved Friend, + 

Those holy Men both died in the same hour. + 

Lines Written with a Pencil Upon a Stone in the Wall of the House (An Out-House) on the Island at Grasmere + 

Rude is this Edifice, and Thou hast seen + 

Buildings, albeit rude, that have maintained + 

Proportions more harmonious, and approached + 

To somewhat of a closer fellowship + 

With the ideal grace. Yet as it is + 

Do take it in good part; for he, the poor + 

Vitruvius of our village, had no help + 

From the great City; never on the leaves + 

Of red Morocco folio saw displayed + 

The skeletons and pre-existing ghosts + 

Of Beauties yet unborn, the rustic Box, + 

Snug Cot, with Coach-house, Shed and Hermitage. + 

It is a homely Pile, yet to these walls + 

The heifer comes in the snow-storm, and here + 

The new-dropped lamb finds shelter from the wind. + 

And hither does one Poet sometimes row + 

His Pinnace, a small vagrant Barge, up-piled + 

With plenteous store of heath and withered fern, + 

(A lading which he with his sickle cuts + 

Among the mountains,) and beneath this roof + 

He makes his summer couch, and here at noon + 

Spreads out his limbs, while, yet unshorn, the Sheep + 

Panting beneath the burthen of their wool + 

Lie round him, even as if they were a part + 

Of his own Household: nor, while from his bed + 

He through that door-place looks toward the lake + 

And to the stirring breezes, does he want + 

Creations lovely as the work of sleep, + 

Fair sights, and visions of romantic joy. + 

To a Sexton + 

Let thy wheel-barrow alone. + 

Wherefore, Sexton, piling still + 

In thy Bone-house bone on bone? + 

’Tis already like a hill + 

In a field of battle made, + 

Where three thousand skulls are laid. + 

—These died in peace each with the other, + 

Father, Sister, Friend, and Brother. + 

Mark the spot to which I point! + 

From this platform eight feet square + 

Take not even a finger-joint: + 

Andrew’s whole fire-side is there. + 

Here, alone, before thine eyes, + 

Simon’s sickly Daughter lies, + 

From weakness, now, and pain defended, + 

Whom he twenty winters tended. + 

Look but at the gardener’s pride⁠— + 

How he glories, when he sees + 

Roses, Lilies, side by side, + 

Violets in families! + 

By the heart of Man, his tears, + 

By his hopes and by his fears, + 

Thou, old Grey-beard! art the Warden + 

Of a far superior garden. + 

Thus then, each to other dear, + 

Let them all in quiet lie, + 

Andrew there and Susan here, + 

Neighbours in mortality. + 

And, should I live through sun and rain + 

Seven widowed years without my Jane, + 

O Sexton, do not then remove her, + 

Let one grave hold the Lov’d and Lover! + 

Andrew Jones + 

“I hate that Andrew Jones: he’ll breed + 

His children up to waste and pillage. + 

I wish the press-gang or the drum + 

With its tantara sound, would come + 

And sweep him from the village!” + 

I said not this, because he loves + 

Through the long day to swear and tipple; + 

But for the poor dear sake of one + 

To whom a foul deed he had done, + 

A friendless Man, a travelling Cripple. + 

For this poor crawling helpless wretch + 

Some Horseman who was passing by + 

A penny on the ground had thrown; + 

But the poor Cripple was alone, + 

And could not stoop⁠—no help was nigh. + 

Inch-thick the dust lay on the ground, + 

For it had long been droughty weather: + 

So with his staff the Cripple wrought + 

Among the dust till he had brought + 

The halfpennies together. + 

It chanced that Andrew passed that way + 

Just at that time; and there he found + 

The Cripple in the mid-day heat + 

Standing alone, and at his feet + 

He saw the penny on the ground. + 

He stooped and took the penny up: + 

And when the Cripple nearer drew, + 

Quoth Andrew, “Under half-a-crown, + 

What a man finds is all his own, + 

And so, my friend, good day to you.” + 

And hence I said, that Andrew’s boys + 

Will all be trained to waste and pillage; + 

And wished the press-gang, or the drum + 

With its tantara sound, would come + 

And sweep him from the village! + 

Ruth + 

When Ruth was left half desolate + 

Her Father took another Mate; + 

And Ruth, not seven years old, + 

A slighted Child, at her own will + 

Went wandering over dale and hill, + 

In thoughtless freedom bold. + 

And she had made a Pipe of straw, + 

And from that oaten Pipe could draw + 

All sounds of winds and floods; + 

Had built a Bower upon the green, + 

As if she from her birth had been + 

An Infant of the woods. + 

Beneath her Father’s roof, alone + 

She seemed to live; her thoughts her own; + 

Herself her own delight: + 

Pleased with herself, nor sad nor gay, + 

She passed her time; and in this way + 

Grew up to Woman’s height. + 

There came a Youth from Georgia’s shore⁠— + 

A military Casque he wore + 

With splendid feathers drest; + 

He brought them from the Cherokees; + 

The feathers nodded in the breeze, + 

And made a gallant crest. + 

From Indian blood you deem him sprung: + 

Ah no! he spake the English tongue, + 

And bore a Soldier’s name; + 

And, when America was free + 

From battle and from jeopardy, + 

He ’cross the ocean came. + 

With hues of genius on his cheek + 

In finest tones the Youth could speak. + 

—While he was yet a Boy + 

The moon, the glory of the sun, + 

And streams that murmur as they run, + 

Had been his dearest joy. + 

He was a lovely Youth! I guess + 

The panther in the wilderness + 

Was not so fair as he; + 

And when he chose to sport and play, + 

No dolphin ever was so gay + 

Upon the tropic sea. + 

Among the Indians he had fought; + 

And with him many tales he brought + 

Of pleasure and of fear; + 

Such tales as, told to any Maid + 

By such a Youth, in the green shade, + 

Were perilous to hear. + 

He told of Girls, a happy rout! + 

Who quit their fold with dance and shout, + 

Their pleasant Indian Town + 

To gather strawberries all day long, + 

Returning with a choral song + 

When day-light is gone down. + 

He spake of plants divine and strange + 

That every hour their blossoms change, + 

Ten thousand lovely hues! + 

With budding, fading, faded flowers + 

They stand the wonder of the bowers + 

From morn to evening dews. + 

Of march and ambush, siege and fight, + 

Then did he tell; and with delight + 

The heart of Ruth would ache; + 

Wild histories they were, and dear: + 

But ’twas a thing of heaven to hear + 

When of himself he spake! + 

Sometimes most earnestly he said; + 

“O Ruth! I have been worse than dead: + 

False thoughts, thoughts bold and vain, + 

Encompassed me on every side + 

When I, in confidence and pride, + 

Had crossed the Atlantic Main. + 

“It was a fresh and glorious world, + 

A banner bright that was unfurled + 

Before me suddenly: + 

I looked upon those hills and plains, + 

And seemed as if let loose from chains + 

To live at liberty. + 

“But wherefore speak of this? for now, + 

Sweet Ruth! with thee, I know not how, + 

I feel my spirit burn⁠— + 

Even as the east when day comes forth; + 

And to the west, and south, and north, + 

The morning doth return. + 

“It is a purer, better mind: + 

O Maiden innocent and kind, + 

What sights I might have seen!” + 

Even now upon my eyes they break! + 

—And he again began to speak + 

Of Lands where he had been. + 

He told of the Magnolia, spread + 

High as a cloud, high over head! + 

The Cypress and her spire, + 

—Of flowers that with one scarlet gleam + 

Cover a hundred leagues, and seem + 

To set the hills on fire. + 

The Youth of green savannahs spake, + 

And many an endless, endless lake, + 

With all its fairy crowds + 

Of islands, that together lie + 

As quietly as spots of sky + 

Among the evening clouds. + 

And then he said “How sweet it were + 

A fisher or a hunter there, + 

A gardener in the shade, + 

Still wandering with an easy mind + 

To build a household fire, and find + 

A home in every glade! + 

“What days and what sweet years! Ah me! + 

Our life were life indeed, with thee + 

So passed in quiet bliss, + 

And all the while,” said he, “to know + 

That we were in a world of woe, + 

On such an earth as this!” + 

And then he sometimes interwove + 

Dear thoughts about a Father’s love, + 

“For there,” said he, “are spun + 

Around the heart such tender ties, + 

That our own children to our eyes + 

Are dearer than the sun. + 

“Sweet Ruth! and could you go with me + 

My helpmate in the woods to be, + 

Our shed at night to rear; + 

Or run, my own adopted Bride, + 

A sylvan Huntress at my side, + 

And drive the flying deer! + 

“Beloved Ruth!”⁠—No more he said. + 

Sweet Ruth alone at midnight shed + 

A solitary tear. + 

She thought again⁠—and did agree + 

With him to sail across the sea, + 

And drive the flying deer. + 

“And now, as fitting is and right, + 

We in the Church our faith will plight, + 

A Husband and a Wife.” + 

Even so they did; and I may say + 

That to sweet Ruth that happy day + 

Was more than human life. + 

Through dream and vision did she sink, + 

Delighted all the while to think + 

That, on those lonesome floods, + 

And green savannahs, she should share + 

His board with lawful joy, and bear + 

His name in the wild woods. + 

But, as you have before been told, + 

This Stripling, sportive, gay, and bold, + 

And with his dancing crest + 

So beautiful, through savage lands + 

Had roamed about with vagrant bands + 

Of Indians in the West. + 

The wind, the tempest roaring high, + 

The tumult of a tropic sky, + 

Might well be dangerous food + 

For him, a Youth to whom was given + 

So much of earth so much of Heaven, + 

And such impetuous blood. + 

Whatever in those Climes he found + 

Irregular in sight or sound + 

Did to his mind impart + 

A kindred impulse, seemed allied + 

To his own powers, and justified + 

The workings of his heart. + 

Nor less to feed voluptuous thought + 

The beauteous forms of nature wrought, + 

Fair trees and lovely flowers; + 

The breezes their own languor lent; + 

The stars had feelings, which they sent + 

Into those magic bowers. + 

Yet, in his worst pursuits, I ween + 

That sometimes there did intervene + 

Pure hopes of high intent; + 

For passions linked to forms so fair + 

And stately needs must have their share + 

Of noble sentiment. + 

But ill he lived, much evil saw + 

With men to whom no better law + 

Nor better life was known; + 

Deliberately and undeceived + 

Those wild men’s vices he received, + 

And gave them back his own. + 

His genius and his moral frame + 

Were thus impaired, and he became + 

The slave of low desires: + 

A Man who without self-control + 

Would seek what the degraded soul + 

Unworthily admires. + 

And yet he with no feigned delight + 

Had wooed the maiden, day and night + 

Had loved her, night and morn: + 

What could he less than love a Maid + 

Whose heart with so much nature played? + 

So kind and so forlorn! + 

But now the pleasant dream was gone; + 

No hope, no wish remained, not one, + 

They stirred him now no more; + 

New objects did new pleasure give, + 

And once again he wished to live + 

As lawless as before. + 

Meanwhile, as thus with him it fared, + 

They for the voyage were prepared, + 

And went to the sea-shore; + 

But, when they thither came, the Youth + 

Deserted his poor Bride, and Ruth + 

Could never find him more. + 

“God help thee Ruth!”⁠—Such pains she had + 

That she in half a year was mad + 

And in a prison housed; + 

And there, exulting in her wrongs, + 

Among the music of her songs + 

She fearfully caroused. + 

Yet sometimes milder hours she knew, + 

Nor wanted sun, nor rain, nor dew, + 

Nor pastimes of the May, + 

—They all were with her in her cell; + 

And a wild brook with cheerful knell + 

Did o’er the pebbles play. + 

When Ruth three seasons thus had lain + 

There came a respite to her pain, + 

She from her prison fled; + 

But of the Vagrant none took thought; + 

And where it liked her best she sought + 

Her shelter and her bread. + 

Among the fields she breathed again: + 

The master-current of her brain + 

Ran permanent and free; + 

And, coming to the banks of Tone, + 

There did she rest; and dwell alone + 

Under the greenwood tree. + 

The engines of her pain, the tools + 

That shaped her sorrow, rocks and pools, + 

And airs that gently stir + 

The vernal leaves, she loved them still, + 

Nor ever taxed them with the ill + 

Which had been done to her. + 

A Barn her winter bed supplies; + 

But till the warmth of summer skies + 

And summer days is gone, + 

(And all do in this tale agree) + 

She sleeps beneath the greenwood tree, + 

And other home hath none. + 

An innocent life, yet far astray! + 

And Ruth will, long before her day, + 

Be broken down and old. + 

Sore aches she needs must have! but less + 

Of mind, than body’s wretchedness, + 

From damp, and rain, and cold. + 

If she is pressed by want of food, + 

She from her dwelling in the wood + 

Repairs to a road-side; + 

And there she begs at one steep place, + 

Where up and down with easy pace + 

The horsemen-travellers ride. + 

That oaten Pipe of hers is mute, + 

Or thrown away; but with a flute + 

Her loneliness she cheers: + 

This flute, made of a hemlock stalk, + 

At evening in his homeward walk + 

The Quantock Woodman hears. + 

I, too, have passed her on the hills + 

Setting her little water-mills + 

By spouts and fountains wild⁠— + 

Such small machinery as she turned + 

Ere she had wept, ere she had mourned, + 

A young and happy Child! + 

Farewell! and when thy days are told, + 

Ill-fated Ruth! in hallowed mould + 

Thy corpse shall buried be; + 

For thee a funeral bell shall ring, + 

And all the congregation sing + 

A Christian psalm for thee. + 

Lines Written with a Slate-Pencil, Upon a Stone, the Largest of a Heap Lying Near a Deserted Quarry, Upon One of the Islands at Rydale + 

Stranger! this hillock of misshapen stones + 

Is not a ruin of the ancient time, + 

Nor, as perchance thou rashly deem’st, the Cairn + 

Of some old British Chief: ’tis nothing more + 

Than the rude embryo of a little Dome + 

Or Pleasure-house, once destined to be built + 

Among the birch-trees of this rocky isle. + 

But, as it chanced, Sir William having learned + 

That from the shore a full-grown man might wade, + 

And make himself a freeman of this spot + 

At any hour he chose, the Knight forthwith + 

Desisted, and the quarry and the mound + 

Are monuments of his unfinished task.⁠— + 

The block on which these lines are traced, perhaps, + 

Was once selected as the corner-stone + 

Of the intended Pile, which would have been + 

Some quaint odd play-thing of elaborate skill, + 

So that, I guess, the linnet and the thrush, + 

And other little Builders who dwell here, + 

Had wondered at the work. But blame him not, + 

For old Sir William was a gentle Knight + 

Bred in this vale, to which he appertained + 

With all his ancestry. Then peace to him, + 

And for the outrage which he had devised + 

Entire forgiveness!⁠—But if thou art one + 

On fire with thy impatience to become + 

An inmate of these mountains, if, disturbed + 

By beautiful conceptions, thou hast hewn + 

Out of the quiet rock the elements + 

Of thy trim mansion destined soon to blaze + 

In snow-white glory, think again, and, taught + 

By old Sir William and his quarry, leave + 

Thy fragments to the bramble and the rose; + 

There let the vernal Slow-worm sun himself, + 

And let the Redbreast hop from stone to stone. + 

If Nature, for a favourite Child + 

In thee hath tempered so her clay, + 

That every hour thy heart runs wild, + 

Yet never once doth go astray, + 

Read o’er these lines; and then review + 

This tablet, that thus humbly rears + 

In such diversity of hue + 

Its history of two hundred years. + 

—When through this little wreck of fame, + 

Cipher and syllable! thine eye + 

Has travelled down to Matthew’s name, + 

Pause with no common sympathy. + 

And, if a sleeping tear should wake, + 

Then be it neither checked nor stayed: + 

For Matthew a request I make + 

Which for himself he had not made. + 

Poor Matthew, all his frolics o’er, + 

Is silent as a standing pool; + 

Far from the chimney’s merry roar, + 

And murmur of the village school. + 

The sighs which Matthew heaved were sighs + 

Of one tired out with fun and madness; + 

The tears which came to Matthew’s eyes + 

Were tears of light, the oil of gladness. + 

Yet, sometimes, when the secret cup + 

Of still and serious thought went round, + 

It seemed as if he drank it up⁠— + 

He felt with spirit so profound. + 

—Thou soul of God’s best earthly mould! + 

Thou happy soul! and can it be + 

That these two words of glittering gold + 

Are all that must remain to thee? + 

The Two April Mornings + 

We walked along, while bright and red + 

Uprose the morning sun; + 

And Matthew stopped, he looked, and said, + 

“The will of God be done!” + 

A village Schoolmaster was he, + 

With hair of glittering gray; + 

As blithe a man as you could see + 

On a spring holiday. + 

And on that morning, through the grass, + 

And by the steaming rills, + 

We travelled merrily, to pass + 

A day among the hills. + 

“Our work,” said I, “was well begun; + 

Then, from thy breast what thought, + 

Beneath so beautiful a sun, + 

So sad a sigh has brought?” + 

A second time did Matthew stop; + 

And fixing still his eye + 

Upon the eastern mountaintop, + 

To me he made reply: + 

“Yon cloud with that long purple cleft + 

Brings fresh into my mind + 

A day like this which I have left + 

Full thirty years behind. + 

“And just above yon slope of corn + 

Such colours, and no other + 

Were in the sky, that April morn, + 

Of this the very brother. + 

“With rod and line my silent sport + 

I plied by Derwent’s wave; + 

And, coming to the church, stopp’d short + 

Beside my daughter’s grave. + 

“Nine summers had she scarcely seen, + 

The pride of all the vale; + 

And then she sung;⁠—she would have been + 

A very nightingale. + 

“Six feet in earth my Emma lay; + 

And yet I loved her more, + 

For so it seemed, than till that day + 

I e’er had loved before. + 

“And turning from her grave, I met + 

Beside the church-yard Yew + 

A blooming Girl, whose hair was wet + 

With points of morning dew. + 

“A basket on her head she bare; + 

Her brow was smooth and white: + 

To see a Child so very fair, + 

It was a pure delight! + 

“No fountain from its rocky cave + 

E’er tripped with foot so free; + 

She seemed as happy as a wave + 

That dances on the sea. + 

“There came from me a sigh of pain + 

Which I could ill confine; + 

I looked at her and looked again: + 

—And did not wish her mine.” + 

Matthew is in his grave, yet now + 

Methinks I see him stand, + 

As at that moment, with his bough + 

Of wilding in his hand. + 

The Fountain + 

A Conversation + 

We talked with open heart, and tongue + 

Affectionate and true; + 

A pair of Friends, though I was young, + 

And Matthew seventy-two. + 

We lay beneath a spreading oak, + 

Beside a mossy seat; + 

And from the turf a fountain broke, + 

And gurgled at our feet. + 

“Now, Matthew! let us try to match + 

This water’s pleasant tune + 

With some old Border-song, or Catch + 

That suits a summer’s noon. + 

“Or of the Church-clock and the chimes + 

Sing here beneath the shade, + 

That half-mad thing of witty rhymes + 

Which you last April made!” + 

In silence Matthew lay, and eyed + 

The spring beneath the tree; + 

And thus the dear old man replied, + 

The gray-haired man of glee: + 

“Down to the vale this water steers, + 

How merrily it goes! + 

’Twill murmur on a thousand years, + 

And flow as now it flows. + 

“And here, on this delightful day, + 

I cannot choose but think + 

How oft, a vigorous man, I lay + 

Beside this Fountain’s brink. + 

“My eyes are dim with childish tears, + 

My heart is idly stirred, + 

For the same sound is in my ears + 

Which in those days I heard. + 

“Thus fares it still in our decay: + 

And yet the wiser mind + 

Mourns less for what age takes away + 

Than what it leaves behind. + 

“The Blackbird in the summer trees, + 

The Lark upon the hill, + 

Let loose their carols when they please, + 

Are quiet when they will. + 

“With Nature never do they wage + 

A foolish strife; they see + 

A happy youth, and their old age + 

Is beautiful and free: + 

“But we are pressed by heavy laws; + 

And often, glad no more, + 

We wear a face of joy, because + 

We have been glad of yore. + 

“If there is one who need bemoan + 

His kindred laid in earth, + 

The household hearts that were his own, + 

It is the man of mirth. + 

“My days, my Friend, are almost gone, + 

My life has been approved, + 

And many love me; but by none + 

Am I enough beloved.” + 

“Now both himself and me he wrongs, + 

The man who thus complains! + 

I live and sing my idle songs + 

Upon these happy plains, + 

“And, Matthew, for thy Children dead + 

I’ll be a son to thee!” + 

At this he grasped his hands, and said + 

“Alas! that cannot be.” + 

We rose up from the fountain-side; + 

And down the smooth descent + 

Of the green sheep-track did we glide; + 

And through the wood we went; + 

And, ere we came to Leonard’s Rock, + 

He sang those witty rhymes + 

About the crazy old church clock + 

And the bewildered chimes. + 

Nutting + 

⸻⁠⸻⁠⸻⁠⸺⁠It seems a day, + 

(I speak of one from many singled out) + 

One of those heavenly days which cannot die, + 

When forth I sallied from our Cottage-door, + 

And with a wallet o’er my shoulder slung, + 

A nutting crook in hand, I turned my steps + 

Towards the distant woods, a Figure quaint, + 

Tricked out in proud disguise of Beggar’s weeds + 

Put on for the occasion, by advice + 

And exhortation of my frugal Dame. + 

Motley accoutrement! of power to smile + 

At thorns, and brakes, and brambles, and, in truth, + 

More ragged than need was. Among the woods, + 

And o’er the pathless rocks, I forced my way + 

Until, at length, I came to one dear nook + 

Unvisited, where not a broken bough + 

Drooped with its withered leaves, ungracious sign + 

Of devastation, but the hazels rose + 

Tall and erect, with milk-white clusters hung, + 

A virgin scene!⁠—A little while I stood, + 

Breathing with such suppression of the heart + 

As joy delights in; and with wise restraint + 

Voluptuous, fearless of a rival, eyed + 

The banquet, or beneath the trees I sate + 

Among the flowers, and with the flowers I played; + 

A temper known to those, who, after long + 

And weary expectation, have been blessed + 

With sudden happiness beyond all hope.⁠— + 

Perhaps it was a bower beneath whose leaves + 

The violets of five seasons re-appear + 

And fade, unseen by any human eye; + 

Where fairy water-breaks do murmur on + 

For ever, and I saw the sparkling foam, + 

And with my cheek on one of those green stones + 

That, fleeced with moss, beneath the shady trees, + 

Lay round me, scattered like a flock of sheep, + 

I heard the murmur and the murmuring sound, + 

In that sweet mood when pleasure loves to pay + 

Tribute to ease; and, of its joy secure, + 

The heart luxuriates with indifferent things, + 

Wasting its kindliness on stocks and stones, + 

And on the vacant air. Then up I rose, + 

And dragged to earth both branch and bough, with crash + 

And merciless ravage; and the shady nook + 

Of hazels, and the green and mossy bower, + 

Deformed and sullied, patiently gave up + 

Their quiet being: and, unless I now + 

Confound my present feelings with the past, + 

Even then, when from the bower I turned away + 

Exulting, rich beyond the wealth of kings, + 

I felt a sense of pain when I beheld + 

The silent trees and the intruding sky.⁠— + 

Then, dearest Maiden! move along these shades + 

In gentleness of heart; with gentle hand + 

Touch⁠—for there is a Spirit in the woods. + 

Three Years She Grew in Sun and Shower + 

Three years she grew in sun and shower, + 

Then Nature said, “A lovelier flower + 

On earth was never sown; + 

This Child I to myself will take; + 

She shall be mine, and I will make + 

A Lady of my own. + 

“Myself will to my darling be + 

Both law and impulse; and with me + 

The Girl, in rock and plain, + 

In earth and heaven, in glade and bower, + 

Shall feel an overseeing power + 

To kindle or restrain. + 

“She shall be sportive as the Fawn + 

That wild with glee across the lawn + 

Or up the mountain springs; + 

And hers shall be the breathing balm, + 

And hers the silence and the calm + 

Of mute insensate things. + 

“The floating Clouds their state shall lend + 

To her; for her the willow bend; + 

Nor shall she fail to see + 

Even in the motions of the Storm + 

Grace that shall mould the Maiden’s form + 

By silent sympathy. + 

“The Stars of midnight shall be dear + 

To her; and she shall lean her ear + 

In many a secret place + 

Where Rivulets dance their wayward round, + 

And beauty born of murmuring sound + 

Shall pass into her face. + 

“And vital feelings of delight + 

Shall rear her form to stately height, + 

Her virgin bosom swell; + 

Such thoughts to Lucy I will give + 

While she and I together live + 

Here in this happy Dell.” + 

Thus Nature spake⁠—The work was done⁠— + 

How soon my Lucy’s race was run! + 

She died, and left to me + 

This heath, this calm, and quiet scene; + 

The memory of what has been, + 

And never more will be. + 

The Pet-Lamb + 

A Pastoral + 

The dew was falling fast, the stars began to blink; + 

I heard a voice; it said, “Drink, pretty Creature, drink!” + 

And, looking o’er the hedge, before me I espied + 

A snow-white mountain Lamb with a Maiden at its side. + 

No other sheep were near, the Lamb was all alone, + 

And by a slender cord was tethered to a stone; + 

With one knee on the grass did the little Maiden kneel + 

While to that Mountain Lamb she gave its evening meal. + 

The Lamb while from her hand he thus his supper took + 

Seemed to feast with head and ears; and his tail with pleasure shook. + 

“Drink, pretty Creature, drink,” she said in such a tone + 

That I almost received her heart into my own. + 

’Twas little Barbara Lewthwaite, a Child of beauty rare! + 

I watched them with delight, they were a lovely pair. + 

Now with her empty Can the Maiden turned away; + 

But ere ten yards were gone her footsteps did she stay. + 

Towards the Lamb she looked; and from that shady place + 

I unobserved could see the workings of her face: + 

If Nature to her tongue could measured numbers bring, + 

Thus, thought I, to her Lamb that little Maid might sing. + 

“What ails thee, Young One? What? Why pull so at thy cord? + 

Is it not well with thee? Well both for bed and board? + 

Thy plot of grass is soft, and green as grass can be; + 

Rest, little Young One, rest; what is’t that aileth thee? + 

“What is it thou wouldst seek? What is wanting to thy heart? + 

Thy limbs are they not strong? And beautiful thou art: + 

This grass is tender grass; these flowers they have no peers; + 

And that green corn all day is rustling in thy ears! + 

“If the Sun be shining hot, do but stretch thy woollen chain, + 

This beech is standing by, its covert thou canst gain; + 

For rain and mountain storms! the like thou need’st not fear⁠— + 

The rain and storm are things which scarcely can come here. + 

“Rest, little Young One, rest; thou hast forgot the day + 

When my Father found thee first in places far away; + 

Many flocks were on the hills, but thou wert owned by none; + 

And thy mother from thy side for evermore was gone. + 

“He took thee in his arms, and in pity brought thee home: + 

A blessed day for thee! then whither wouldst thou roam? + 

A faithful Nurse thou hast, the Dam that did thee yean + 

Upon the mountain tops no kinder could have been. + 

“Thou know’st that twice a day I have brought thee in this Can + 

Fresh water from the brook as clear as ever ran: + 

And twice in the day when the ground is wet with dew + 

I bring thee draughts of milk, warm milk it is and new. + 

“Thy limbs will shortly be twice as stout as they are now, + 

Then I’ll yoke thee to my cart like a pony in the plough; + 

My Playmate thou shalt be; and when the wind is cold + 

Our hearth shall be thy bed, our house shall be thy fold. + 

“It will not, will not rest!⁠—poor Creature, can it be + 

That ’tis thy mother’s heart which is working so in thee? + 

Things that I know not of belike to thee are dear, + 

And dreams of things which thou canst neither see nor hear. + 

“Alas, the mountain tops that look so green and fair! + 

I’ve heard of fearful winds and darkness that come there; + 

The little Brooks that seem all pastime and all play, + 

When they are angry, roar like Lions for their prey. + 

“Here thou need’st not dread the raven in the sky; + 

Night and day thou art safe⁠—our cottage is hard by. + 

Why bleat so after me? Why pull so at thy chain? + 

Sleep⁠—and at break of day I will come to thee again!” + 

—As homeward through the lane I went with lazy feet, + 

This song to myself did I oftentimes repeat; + 

And it seemed, as I retraced the ballad line by line, + 

That but half of it was hers, and one half of it was mine. + 

Again, and once again did I repeat the song; + 

“Nay” said I, “more than half to the Damsel must belong, + 

For she looked with such a look, and she spake with such a tone, + 

That I almost received her heart into my own.” + 

A fig for your languages, German and Norse! + 

Let me have the song of the Kettle; + 

And the tongs and the poker, instead of that Horse + 

That gallops away with such fury and force + 

On this dreary dull plate of black metal. + 

Our earth is no doubt made of excellent stuff; + 

But her pulses beat slower and slower: + 

The weather in Forty was cutting and rough, + 

And then, as Heaven knows, the Glass stood low enough; + 

And now it is four degrees lower. + 

Here’s a Fly, a disconsolate creature, perhaps + 

A child of the field, or the grove; + 

And, sorrow for him! this dull treacherous heat + 

Has seduced the poor fool from his winter retreat, + 

And he creeps to the edge of my stove. + 

Alas! how he fumbles about the domains + 

Which this comfortless oven environ! + 

He cannot find out in what track he must crawl, + 

Now back to the tiles, and now back to the wall, + 

And now on the brink of the iron. + 

Stock-still there he stands like a traveller bemazed; + 

The best of his skill he has tried; + 

His feelers methinks I can see him put forth + 

To the East and the West, and the South and the North; + 

But he finds neither Guide-post nor Guide. + 

See! his spindles sink under him, foot, leg and thigh; + 

His eyesight and hearing are lost; + 

Between life and death his blood freezes and thaws; + 

And his two pretty pinions of blue dusky gauze + 

Are glued to his sides by the frost. + 

No Brother, no Friend has he near him⁠—while I + 

Can draw warmth from the cheek of my Love; + 

As blest and as glad in this desolate gloom, + 

As if green summer grass were the floor of my room, + 

And woodbines were hanging above. + 

Yet, God is my witness, thou small helpless Thing! + 

Thy life I would gladly sustain + 

Till summer comes up from the South, and with crowds + 

Of thy brethren a march thou shouldst sound through the clouds, + 

And back to the forests again. + 

The Childless Father + 

“Up, Timothy, up with your Staff and away! + 

Not a soul in the village this morning will stay; + 

The Hare has just started from Hamilton’s grounds, + 

And Skiddaw is glad with the cry of the hounds.” + 

—Of coats and of jackets gray, scarlet and green, + 

On the slopes of the pastures all colours were seen; + 

With their comely blue aprons, and caps white as snow, + 

The Girls on the hills made a holiday show. + 

The bason of box-wood, just six months before, + 

Had stood on the table at Timothy’s door; + 

A Coffin through Timothy’s threshold had passed; + 

One Child did it bear, and that Child was his last. + 

Now fast up the dell came the noise and the fray, + 

The horse and the horn, and the hark! hark away! + 

Old Timothy took up his staff, and he shut + 

With a leisurely motion the door of his hut. + 

Perhaps to himself at that moment he said, + 

“The key I must take, for my Ellen is dead.” + 

But of this in my ears not a word did he speak, + 

And he went to the chase with a tear on his cheek. + 

I saw an aged beggar in my walk, + 

And he was seated by the highway side + 

On a low structure of rude masonry + 

Built at the foot of a huge hill, that they + 

Who lead their horses down the steep rough road + 

May thence remount at ease. The aged Man + 

Had placed his staff across the broad smooth stone + 

That overlays the pile, and from a bag + 

All white with flour, the dole of village dames, + 

He drew his scraps and fragments, one by one, + 

And scanned them with a fixed and serious look + 

Of idle computation. In the sun, + 

Upon the second step of that small pile, + 

Surrounded by those wild unpeopled hills, + 

He sat, and ate his food in solitude: + 

And ever, scattered from his palsied hand, + 

That, still attempting to prevent the waste, + 

Was baffled still, the crumbs in little showers + 

Fell on the ground, and the small mountain birds, + 

Not venturing yet to peck their destined meal, + 

Approached within the length of half his staff. + 

Him from my childhood have I known; and then + 

He was so old, he seems not older now; + 

He travels on, a solitary Man, + 

So helpless in appearance, that for him + 

The sauntering Horseman-traveller does not throw + 

With careless hand his alms upon the ground, + 

But stops, that he may safely lodge the coin + 

Within the old Man’s hat; nor quits him so, + 

But still when he has given his horse the rein + 

Towards the aged Beggar turns a look, + 

Sidelong and half-reverted. She who tends + 

The Toll-gate, when in summer at her door + 

She turns her wheel, if on the road she sees + 

The aged Beggar coming, quits her work, + 

And lifts the latch for him that he may pass. + 

The Post-boy, when his rattling wheels o’ertake + 

The aged Beggar in the woody lane, + 

Shouts to him from behind, and, if perchance + 

The old Man does not change his course, the Boy + 

Turns with less noisy wheels to the road-side, + 

And passes gently by, without a curse + 

Upon his lips, or anger at his heart. + 

He travels on, a solitary Man, + 

His age has no companion. On the ground + 

His eyes are turned, and, as he moves along, + 

They move along the ground; and, evermore, + 

Instead of common and habitual sight + 

Of fields with rural works, of hill and dale, + 

And the blue sky, one little span of earth + 

Is all his prospect. Thus, from day to day, + 

Bowbent, his eyes for ever on the ground, + 

He plies his weary journey; seeing still, + 

And never knowing that he sees, some straw, + 

Some scattered leaf, or marks which, in one track, + 

The nails of cart or chariot wheel have left + 

Impressed on the white road, in the same line, + 

At distance still the same. Poor Traveller! + 

His staff trails with him; scarcely do his feet + 

Disturb the summer dust; he is so still + 

In look and motion, that the cottage curs, + 

Ere he have passed the door, will turn away, + 

Weary of barking at him. Boys and Girls, + 

The vacant and the busy, Maids and Youths, + 

And Urchins newly breeched all pass him by: + 

Him even the slow-paced Wagon leaves behind. + 

But deem not this Man useless.⁠—Statesmen! ye + 

Who are so restless in your wisdom, ye + 

Who have a broom still ready in your hands + 

To rid the world of nuisances; ye proud, + 

Heart-swoln, while in your pride ye contemplate + 

Your talents, power, and wisdom, deem him not + 

A burthen of the earth. ’Tis Nature’s law + 

That none, the meanest of created things, + 

Of forms created the most vile and brute, + 

The dullest or most noxious, should exist + 

Divorced from good⁠—a spirit and pulse of good, + 

A life and soul to every mode of being + 

Inseparably linked. While thus he creeps + 

From door to door, the Villagers in him + 

Behold a record which together binds + 

Past deeds and offices of charity, + 

Else unremembered, and so keeps alive + 

The kindly mood in hearts which lapse of years, + 

And that half-wisdom half-experience gives, + 

Make slow to feel, and by sure steps resign + 

To selfishness and cold oblivious cares. + 

Among the farms and solitary huts, + 

Hamlets and thinly-scattered villages, + 

Where’er the aged Beggar takes his rounds, + 

The mild necessity of use compels + 

To acts of love; and habit does the work + 

Of reason; yet prepares that after joy + 

Which reason cherishes. And thus the soul, + 

By that sweet taste of pleasure unpursued, + 

Doth find itself insensibly disposed + 

To virtue and true goodness. Some there are, + 

By their good works exalted, lofty minds + 

And meditative, authors of delight + 

And happiness, which to the end of time + 

Will live, and spread, and kindle; minds like these, + 

In childhood, from this solitary Being, + 

This helpless Wanderer, have perchance received + 

(A thing more precious far than all that books + 

Or the solicitudes of love can do!) + 

That first mild touch of sympathy and thought, + 

In which they found their kindred with a world + 

Where want and sorrow were. The easy Man + 

Who sits at his own door, and, like the pear + 

Which overhangs his head from the green wall, + 

Feeds in the sunshine; the robust and young, + 

The prosperous and unthinking, they who live + 

Sheltered, and flourish in a little grove + 

Of their own kindred, all behold in him + 

A silent monitor, which on their minds + 

Must needs impress a transitory thought + 

Of self-congratulation, to the heart + 

Of each recalling his peculiar boons, + 

His charters and exemptions; and, perchance, + 

Though he to no one give the fortitude + 

And circumspection needful to preserve + 

His present blessings, and to husband up + 

The respite of the season, he, at least, + 

And ’tis no vulgar service, makes them felt. + 

Yet further.⁠—Many, I believe, there are + 

Who live a life of virtuous decency, + 

Men who can hear the Decalogue and feel + 

No self-reproach; who of the moral law + 

Established in the land where they abide + 

Are strict observers; and not negligent, + 

Meanwhile, in any tenderness of heart + 

Or act of love to those with whom they dwell, + 

Their kindred, and the children of their blood. + 

Praise be to such, and to their slumbers peace! + 

—But of the poor man ask, the abject poor, + 

Go and demand of him, if there be here + 

In this cold abstinence from evil deeds, + 

And these inevitable charities, + 

Wherewith to satisfy the human soul? + 

No⁠—Man is dear to Man; the poorest poor + 

Long for some moments in a weary life + 

When they can know and feel that they have been + 

Themselves the fathers and the dealers out + 

Of some small blessings, have been kind to such + 

As needed kindness, for this single cause, + 

That we have all of us one human heart. + 

—Such pleasure is to one kind Being known; + 

My Neighbour, when with punctual care, each week + 

Duly as Friday comes, though prest herself + 

By her own wants, she from her chest of meal + 

Takes one unsparing handful for the scrip + 

Of this old Mendicant, and, from her door + 

Returning with exhilarated heart, + 

Sits by her fire and builds her hope in heaven. + 

Then let him pass, a blessing on his head! + 

And while in that vast solitude to which + 

The tide of things has led him, he appears + 

To breathe and live but for himself alone, + 

Unblamed, uninjured, let him bear about + 

The good which the benignant law of Heaven + 

Has hung around him; and, while life is his, + 

Still let him prompt the unlettered Villagers + 

To tender offices and pensive thoughts. + 

Then let him pass, a blessing on his head! + 

And, long as he can wander, let him breathe + 

The freshness of the valleys; let his blood + 

Struggle with frosty air and winter snows; + 

And let the chartered wind that sweeps the heath + 

Beat his gray locks against his withered face. + 

Reverence the hope whose vital anxiousness + 

Gives the last human interest to his heart. + 

May never House, misnamed of Industry! + 

Make him a captive! for that pent-up din, + 

Those life-consuming sounds that clog the air, + 

Be his the natural silence of old age! + 

Let him be free of mountain solitudes; + 

And have around him, whether heard or not, + 

The pleasant melody of woodland birds. + 

Few are his pleasures; if his eyes, which now + 

Have been so long familiar with the earth, + 

No more behold the horizontal sun + 

Rising or setting, let the light at least + 

Find a free entrance to their languid orbs. + 

And let him, where and when he will, sit down + 

Beneath the trees, or by the grassy bank + 

Of high-way side, and with the little birds + 

Share his chance-gathered meal; and, finally, + 

As in the eye of Nature he has lived, + 

So in the eye of Nature let him die. + 

Rural Architecture + 

There’s George Fisher, Charles Fleming, and Reginald Shore, + 

Three rosy-cheeked School-boys, the highest not more + 

Than the height of a Counsellor’s bag; + 

To the top of Great How did it please them to climb; + 

And there they built up, without mortar or lime, + 

A Man on the peak of the crag. + 

They built him of stones gathered up as they lay; + 

They built him and christened him all in one day, + 

An Urchin both vigorous and hale; + 

And so without scruple they called him Ralph Jones. + 

Now Ralph is renowned for the length of his bones; + 

The Magog of Legberthwaite dale. + 

Just half a week after, the wind sallied forth, + 

And, in anger or merriment, out of the North + 

Coming on with a terrible pother, + 

From the peak of the crag blew the Giant away. + 

And what did these School-boys?⁠—The very next day + 

They went and they built up another. + 

A Poet’s Epitaph + 

Art thou a Statesman, in the van + 

Of public business trained and bred? + 

—First learn to love one living man; + 

Then mayst thou think upon the dead. + 

A Lawyer art thou?⁠—draw not nigh; + 

Go, carry to some other place + 

The hardness of thy coward eye, + 

The falsehood of thy sallow face. + 

Art thou a Man of purple cheer? + 

A rosy Man, right plump to see? + 

Approach; yet, Doctor, not too near: + 

This grave no cushion is for thee. + 

Art thou a man of gallant pride, + 

A Soldier, and no man of chaff? + 

Welcome!⁠—but lay thy sword aside, + 

And lean upon a Peasant’s staff. + 

Physician art thou? One, all eyes, + 

Philosopher! a fingering slave, + 

One that would peep and botanize + 

Upon his mother’s grave? + 

Wrappt closely in thy sensual fleece + 

O turn aside, and take, I pray, + 

That he below may rest in peace, + 

Thy pin-point of a soul away! + 

—A Moralist perchance appears; + 

Led, Heaven knows how! to this poor sod: + 

And He has neither eyes nor ears; + 

Himself his world, and his own God; + 

One to whose smooth-rubbed soul can cling + 

Nor form, nor feeling, great nor small; + 

A reasoning, self-sufficient thing, + 

An intellectual All in All! + 

Shut close the door; press down the latch; + 

Sleep in thy intellectual crust; + 

Nor lose ten tickings of thy watch + 

Near this unprofitable dust. + 

But who is He, with modest looks, + 

And clad in homely russet brown? + 

He murmurs near the running brooks + 

A music sweeter than their own. + 

He is retired as noontide dew, + 

Or fountain in a noonday grove; + 

And you must love him, ere to you + 

He will seem worthy of your love. + 

The outward shows of sky and earth, + 

Of hill and valley, he has viewed; + 

And impulses of deeper birth + 

Have come to him in solitude. + 

In common things that round us lie + 

Some random truths he can impart, + 

—The harvest of a quiet eye + 

That broods and sleeps on his own heart. + 

But he is weak, both Man and Boy, + 

Hath been an idler in the land; + 

Contented if he might enjoy + 

The things which others understand. + 

—Come hither in thy hour of strength; + 

Come, weak as is a breaking wave! + 

Here stretch thy body at full length; + 

Or build thy house upon this grave. + 

A Fragment + 

Between two sister moorland rills + 

There is a spot that seems to lie + 

Sacred to flowrets of the hills, + 

And sacred to the sky. + 

And in this smooth and open dell + 

There is a tempest-stricken tree; + 

A corner-stone by lightning cut, + 

The last stone of a cottage hut; + 

And in this dell you see + 

A thing no storm can e’er destroy, + 

The shadow of a Danish Boy. + 

In clouds above, the Lark is heard, + 

He sings his blithest and his best; + 

But in this lonesome nook the Bird + 

Did never build his nest. + 

No Beast, no Bird hath here his home; + 

The Bees borne on the breezy air + 

Pass high above those fragrant bells + 

To other flowers, to other dells, + 

Nor ever linger there. + 

The Danish Boy walks here alone: + 

The lovely dell is all his own. + 

A spirit of noon day is he, + 

He seems a Form of flesh and blood; + 

Nor piping Shepherd shall he be, + 

Nor Herd-boy of the wood. + 

A regal vest of fur he wears, + 

In colour like a raven’s wing; + 

It fears not rain, nor wind, nor dew; + 

But in the storm ’tis fresh and blue + 

As budding pines in Spring; + 

His helmet has a vernal grace, + 

Fresh as the bloom upon his face. + 

A harp is from his shoulder slung: + 

He rests the harp upon his knee; + 

And there in a forgotten tongue + 

He warbles melody. + 

Of flocks upon the neighbouring hills + 

He is the darling and the joy; + 

And often, when no cause appears, + 

The mountain ponies prick their ears, + 

They hear the Danish Boy, + 

While in the dell he sits alone + 

Beside the tree and corner-stone. + 

There sits he: in his face you spy + 

No trace of a ferocious air, + 

Nor ever was a cloudless sky + 

So steady or so fair. + 

The lovely Danish Boy is blest + 

And happy in his flowery cove: + 

From bloody deeds his thoughts are far; + 

And yet he warbles songs of war; + 

They seem like songs of love, + 

For calm and gentle is his mien; + 

Like a dead Boy he is serene. + 

Poems on the Naming of Places + 

Advertisement + 

By Persons resident in the country and attached to rural objects, many places will be found unnamed or of unknown names, where little Incidents will have occurred, or feelings been experienced, which will have given to such places a private and peculiar interest. From a wish to give some sort of record to such Incidents, or renew the gratification of such Feelings, Names have been given to Places by the Author and some of his Friends, and the following Poems written in consequence. + 

I + 

It was an April morning: fresh and clear + 

The Rivulet, delighting in its strength, + 

Ran with a young man’s speed; and yet the voice + 

Of waters which the winter had supplied + 

Was softened down into a vernal tone. + 

The spirit of enjoyment and desire, + 

And hopes and wishes, from all living things + 

Went circling, like a multitude of sounds. + 

The budding groves appeared as if in haste + 

To spur the steps of June; as if their shades + 

Of various green were hindrances that stood + 

Between them and their object: yet, meanwhile, + 

There was such deep contentment in the air + 

That every naked ash, and tardy tree + 

Yet leafless, seemed as though the countenance + 

With which it looked on this delightful day + 

Were native to the summer.⁠—Up the brook + 

I roamed in the confusion of my heart, + 

Alive to all things and forgetting all. + 

At length I to a sudden turning came + 

In this continuous glen, where down a rock + 

The stream, so ardent in its course before, + 

Sent forth such sallies of glad sound, that all + 

Which I till then had heard, appeared the voice + 

Of common pleasure: beast and bird, the Lamb, + 

The Shepherd’s Dog, the Linnet and the Thrush + 

Vied with this Waterfall, and made a song + 

Which, while I listened, seemed like the wild growth + 

Or like some natural produce of the air + 

That could not cease to be. Green leaves were here, + 

But ’twas the foliage of the rocks, the birch, + 

The yew, the holly, and the bright green thorn, + 

With hanging islands of resplendent furze: + 

And on a summit, distant a short space, + 

By any who should look beyond the dell, + 

A single mountain Cottage might be seen. + 

I gazed and gazed, and to myself I said, + 

“Our thoughts at least are ours; and this wild nook, + 

My Emma, I will dedicate to thee.” + 

—Soon did the spot become my other home, + 

My dwelling, and my out-of-doors abode. + 

And, of the Shepherds who have seen me there, + 

To whom I sometimes in our idle talk + 

Have told this fancy, two or three, perhaps, + 

Years after we are gone and in our graves, + 

When they have cause to speak of this wild place, + 

May call it by the name of Emma’s Dell. + 

II + 

To Joanna + 

Amid the smoke of cities did you pass + 

Your time of early youth; and there you learned, + 

From years of quiet industry, to love + 

The living Beings by your own fire-side, + 

With such a strong devotion, that your heart + 

Is slow towards the sympathies of them + 

Who look upon the hills with tenderness, + 

And make dear friendships with the streams and groves. + 

Yet we, who are transgressors in this kind, + 

Dwelling retired in our simplicity + 

Among the woods and fields, we love you well, + 

Joanna! and I guess, since you have been + 

So distant from us now for two long years, + 

That you will gladly listen to discourse + 

However trivial, if you thence are taught + 

That they, with whom you once were happy, talk + 

Familiarly of you and of old times. + 

While I was seated, now some ten days past, + 

Beneath those lofty firs, that overtop + 

Their ancient neighbour, the old Steeple tower, + 

The Vicar from his gloomy house hard by + 

Came forth to greet me; and when he had asked, + 

“How fares Joanna, that wild-hearted Maid! + 

And when will she return to us?” he paused; + 

And, after short exchange of village news, + 

He with grave looks demanded, for what cause, + 

Reviving obsolete Idolatry, + 

I, like a Runic Priest, in characters + 

Of formidable size had chiseled out + 

Some uncouth name upon the native rock, + 

Above the Rotha, by the forest side. + 

—Now, by those dear immunities of heart + 

Engendered betwixt malice and true love, + 

I was not loth to be so catechized, + 

And this was my reply:⁠—“As it befell, + 

One summer morning we had walked abroad + 

At break of day, Joanna and myself. + 

—’Twas that delightful season, when the broom, + 

Full-flowered, and visible on every steep, + 

Along the copses runs in veins of gold. + 

Our pathway led us on to Rotha’s banks; + 

And when we came in front of that tall rock + 

Which looks towards the East, I there stopped short, + 

And traced the lofty barrier with my eye + 

From base to summit; such delight I found + 

To note in shrub and tree, in stone and flower, + 

That intermixture of delicious hues, + 

Along so vast a surface, all at once, + 

In one impression, by connecting force + 

Of their own beauty, imaged in the heart. + 

—When I had gazed perhaps two minutes’ space, + 

Joanna, looking in my eyes, beheld + 

That ravishment of mine, and laughed aloud. + 

The rock, like something starting from a sleep, + 

Took up the Lady’s voice, and laughed again: + 

That ancient Woman seated on Helm-crag + 

Was ready with her cavern; Hammar-Scar, + 

And the tall Steep of Silver-How sent forth + 

A noise of laughter; southern Loughrigg heard, + 

And Fairfield answered with a mountain tone: + 

Helvellyn far into the clear blue sky + 

Carried the Lady’s voice⁠—old Skiddaw blew + 

His speaking-trumpet;⁠—back out of the clouds + 

Of Glaramara southward came the voice; + 

And Kirkstone tossed it from his misty head. + 

Now whether, (said I to our cordial Friend + 

Who in the hey-day of astonishment + 

Smiled in my face) this were in simple truth + 

A work accomplished by the brotherhood + 

Of ancient mountains, or my ear was touched + 

With dreams and visionary impulses, + 

Is not for me to tell; but sure I am + 

That there was a loud uproar in the hills. + 

And, while we both were listening, to my side + 

The fair Joanna drew, as if she wished + 

To shelter from some object of her fear. + 

—And hence, long afterwards, when eighteen moons + 

Were wasted, as I chanced to walk alone + 

Beneath this rock, at sun-rise, on a calm + 

And silent morning, I sat down, and there, + 

In memory of affections old and true, + 

I chiseled out in those rude characters + 

Joanna’s name upon the living stone. + 

And I, and all who dwell by my fire-side + 

Have called the lovely rock, Joanna’s Rock.” + 

III + 

There is an Eminence⁠—of these our hills + 

The last that parleys with the setting sun. + 

We can behold it from our Orchard-seat; + 

And, when at evening we pursue our walk + 

Along the public way, this Cliff, so high + 

Above us, and so distant in its height, + 

Is visible, and often seems to send + 

Its own deep quiet to restore our hearts. + 

The meteors make of it a favorite haunt: + 

The star of Jove, so beautiful and large + 

In the mid heavens, is never half so fair + 

As when he shines above it. ’Tis in truth + 

The loneliest place we have among the clouds. + 

And She who dwells with me, whom I have loved + 

With such communion, that no place on earth + 

Can ever be a solitude to me, + 

Hath said, this lonesome Peak shall bear my name. + 

IV + 

A narrow girdle of rough stones and crags, + 

A rude and natural causeway, interpos’d + 

Between the water and a winding slope + 

Of copse and thicket, leaves the eastern shore + 

Of Grasmere safe in its own privacy. + 

And there, myself and two beloved Friends, + 

One calm September morning, ere the mist + 

Had altogether yielded to the sun, + 

Sauntered on this retired and difficult way. + 

—Ill suits the road with one in haste, but we + 

Played with our time; and, as we strolled along, + 

It was our occupation to observe + 

Such objects as the waves had tossed ashore, + 

Feather, or leaf, or weed, or withered bough, + 

Each on the other heaped along the line + 

Of the dry wreck. And, in our vacant mood, + 

Not seldom did we stop to watch some tuft + 

Of dandelion seed or thistle’s beard, + 

Which, seeming lifeless half, and half impelled + 

By some internal feeling, skimmed along + 

Close to the surface of the lake that lay + 

Asleep in a dead calm⁠—ran closely on + 

Along the dead calm lake, now here, now there, + 

In all its sportive wanderings all the while + 

Making report of an invisible breeze + 

That was its wings, its chariot, and its horse, + 

Its very playmate, and its moving soul. + 

—And often, trifling with a privilege + 

Alike indulged to all, we paused, one now, + 

And now the other, to point out, perchance + 

To pluck, some flower or water-weed, too fair + 

Either to be divided from the place + 

On which it grew, or to be left alone + 

To its own beauty. Many such there are, + 

Fair Ferns and Flowers, and chiefly that tall Fern + 

So stately, of the Queen Osmunda named; + 

Plant lovelier in its own retired abode + 

On Grasmere’s beach, than Naiad by the side + 

Of Grecian brook, or Lady of the Mere + 

Sole-sitting by the shores of old Romance. + 

—So fared we that sweet morning: from the fields, + 

Meanwhile, a noise was heard, the busy mirth + 

Of Reapers, Men and Women, Boys and Girls. + 

Delighted much to listen to those sounds, + 

And, in the fashion which I have described + 

Feeding unthinking fancies, we advanced + 

Along the indented shore; when suddenly, + 

Through a thin veil of glittering haze, we saw + 

Before us on a point of jutting land + 

The tall and upright figure of a Man + 

Attired in peasant’s garb, who stood alone + 

Angling beside the margin of the lake. + 

That way we turned our steps; nor was it long + 

Ere, making ready comments on the sight + 

Which then we saw, with one and the same voice + 

We all cried out, that he must be indeed + 

An idle man, who thus could lose a day + 

Of the mid harvest, when the labourer’s hire + 

Is ample, and some little might be stored + 

Wherewith to cheer him in the winter time. + 

Thus talking of that Peasant we approached + 

Close to the spot where with his rod and line + 

He stood alone; whereat he turned his head + 

To greet us⁠—and we saw a man worn down + 

By sickness, gaunt and lean, with sunken cheeks + 

And wasted limbs, his legs so long and lean + 

That for my single self I looked at them, + 

Forgetful of the body they sustained.⁠— + 

Too weak to labour in the harvest field, + 

The Man was using his best skill to gain + 

A pittance from the dead unfeeling lake + 

That knew not of his wants. I will not say + 

What thoughts immediately were ours, nor how + 

The happy idleness of that sweet morn, + 

With all its lovely images, was changed + 

To serious musing and to self-reproach. + 

Nor did we fail to see within ourselves + 

What need there is to be reserved in speech, + 

And temper all our thoughts with charity. + 

—Therefore, unwilling to forget that day, + 

My Friend, Myself, and She who then received + 

The same admonishment, have called the place + 

By a memorial name, uncouth indeed + 

As e’er by Mariner was given to Bay + 

Or Foreland on a new-discovered coast, + 

And Point Rash-Judgement is the Name it bears. + 

V + 

To M. H. + 

Our walk was far among the ancient trees; + 

There was no road, nor any wood-man’s path; + 

But the thick umbrage, checking the wild growth + 

Of weed and sapling, on the soft green turf + 

Beneath the branches of itself had made + 

A track, which brought us to a slip of lawn, + 

And a small bed of water in the woods. + 

All round this pool both flocks and herds might drink + 

On its firm margin, even as from a Well, + 

Or some Stone-bason which the Herdsman’s hand + 

Had shaped for their refreshment; nor did sun + 

Or wind from any quarter ever come, + 

But as a blessing, to this calm recess, + 

This glade of water and this one green field; + 

The spot was made by Nature for herself: + 

The travellers know it not, and ’t will remain + 

Unknown to them: but it is beautiful; + 

And if a man should plant his cottage near, + 

Should sleep beneath the shelter of its trees, + 

And blend its waters with his daily meal, + 

He would so love it that in his death hour + 

Its image would survive among his thoughts: + 

And therefore, my sweet Mary, this still nook + 

With all its beeches we have named for You. + 

Lines Written When Sailing in a Boat at Evening + 

How rich the wave, in front, imprest + 

With evening twilight’s summer hues, + 

While, facing thus the crimson west, + 

The Boat her silent course pursues! + 

And see how dark the backward stream! + 

A little moment past, so smiling! + 

And still, perhaps, with faithless gleam, + 

Some other Loiterer beguiling. + 

Such views the youthful Bard allure; + 

But, heedless of the following gloom, + 

He deems their colours shall endure + 

Till peace go with him to the tomb. + 

—And let him nurse his fond deceit, + 

And what if he must die in sorrow! + 

Who would not cherish dreams so sweet, + 

Though grief and pain may come tomorrow? + 

Remembrance of Collins + 

Written Upon the Thames Near Richmond + 

Glide gently, thus for ever glide, + 

O Thames! that other Bards may see + 

As lovely visions by thy side + 

As now, fair River! come to me. + 

Oh glide, fair Stream! for ever so, + 

Thy quiet soul on all bestowing, + 

Till all our minds for ever flow + 

As thy deep waters now are flowing. + 

Vain thought!⁠ ⁠… Yet be as now thou art, + 

That in thy waters may be seen + 

The image of a poet’s heart, + 

How bright, how solemn, how serene! + 

Such as did once the Poet bless, + 

Who, pouring here a later ditty, + 

Could find no refuge from distress + 

But in the milder grief of pity. + 

Now let us, as we float along, + 

For him suspend the dashing oar; + 

And pray that never child of Song + 

May know that Poet’s sorrows more. + 

How calm! how still! the only sound, + 

The dripping of the oar suspended! + 

—The evening darkness gathers round + 

By virtue’s holiest Powers attended. + 

The Two Thieves + 

Or, The Last Stage of Avarice + 

Oh now that the genius of Bewick were mine, + 

And the skill which he learned on the Banks of the Tyne! + 

Then the Muses might deal with me just as they chose, + 

For I’d take my last leave both of verse and of prose. + 

What feats would I work with my magical hand! + 

Book learning and books should be banished the land: + 

And for hunger and thirst and such troublesome calls! + 

Every Ale-house should then have a feast on its walls. + 

The Traveller would hang his wet clothes on a chair; + 

Let them smoke, let them burn, not a straw would he care; + 

For the Prodigal Son, Joseph’s Dream and his Sheaves, + 

Oh, what would they be to my tale of two Thieves? + 

Little Dan is unbreeched, he is three birth-days old; + 

His Grandsire that age more than thirty times told; + 

There are ninety good seasons of fair and foul weather + 

Between them, and both go a-stealing together. + 

With chips is the Carpenter strewing his floor? + 

Is a cart-load of peats at an old Woman’s door? + 

Old Daniel his hand to the treasure will slide; + 

And his Grandson’s as busy at work by his side. + 

Old Daniel begins, he stops short⁠—and his eye + 

Through the last look of dotage is cunning and sly. + 

’Tis a look which at this time is hardly his own, + 

But tells a plain tale of the days that are flown. + 

Dan once had a heart which was moved by the wires + 

Of manifold pleasures and many desires: + 

And what if he cherished his purse? ’Twas no more + 

Than treading a path trod by thousands before. + 

’Twas a path trod by thousands; but Daniel is one + 

Who went something farther than others have gone: + 

And now with old Daniel you see how it fares; + 

You see to what end he has brought his grey hairs. + 

The Pair sally forth hand in hand: ere the sun + 

Has peered o’er the beeches their work is begun: + 

And yet, into whatever sin they may fall, + 

This Child but half knows it, and that not at all. + 

They hunt through the street with deliberate tread, + 

And each in his turn is both leader and led; + 

And, wherever they carry their plots and their wiles, + 

Every face in the village is dimpled with smiles. + 

Neither checked by the rich nor the needy they roam; + 

For gray-headed Dan has a daughter at home, + 

Who will gladly repair all the damage that’s done; + 

And three, were it asked, would be rendered for one. + 

Old Man! whom so oft I with pity have eyed, + 

I love thee, and love the sweet Boy at thy side: + 

Long yet mayst thou live! for a teacher we see + 

That lifts up the veil of our nature in thee. + 

A Whirl-Blast from Behind the Hill + 

A whirl-blast from behind the hill + 

Rushed o’er the wood with startling sound: + 

Then all at once the air was still, + 

And showers of hail-stones pattered round. + 

Where leafless Oaks towered high above, + 

I sat within an undergrove + 

Of tallest hollies, tall and green; + 

A fairer bower was never seen. + 

From year to year the spacious floor + 

With withered leaves is covered o’er, + 

You could not lay a hair between: + 

And all the year the bower is green. + 

But see! where’er the hailstones drop + 

The withered leaves all skip and hop, + 

There’s not a breeze⁠—no breath of air⁠— + 

Yet here, and there, and every where + 

Along the floor, beneath the shade + 

By those embowering hollies made, + 

The leaves in myriads jump and spring, + 

As if with pipes and music rare + 

Some Robin Good-fellow were there, + 

And all those leaves, that jump and spring, + 

Were each a joyous, living thing. + 

Oh! grant me Heaven a heart at ease, + 

That I may never cease to find, + 

Even in appearances like these, + 

Enough to nourish and to stir my mind! + 

Song for the Wandering Jew + 

Though the torrents from their fountains + 

Roar down many a craggy steep, + 

Yet they find among the mountains + 

Resting-places calm and deep. + 

Though almost with eagle pinion + 

O’er the rocks the Chamois roam, + 

Yet he has some small dominion + 

Which, no doubt, he calls his home. + 

If on windy days the Raven + 

Gambol like a dancing skiff, + 

Not the less he loves his haven + 

On the bosom of the cliff. + 

Though the Sea-horse in the ocean + 

Own no dear domestic cave; + 

Yet he slumbers without motion + 

On the calm and silent wave. + 

Day and night my toils redouble! + 

Never nearer to the goal, + 

Night and day I feel the trouble + 

Of the Wanderer in my soul. + 

Michael + 

A Pastoral Poem + 

If from the public way you turn your steps + 

Up the tumultuous brook of Green-head Gill, + 

You will suppose that with an upright path + 

Your feet must struggle; in such bold ascent + 

The pastoral Mountains front you, face to face. + 

But, courage! for beside that boisterous Brook + 

The mountains have all opened out themselves, + 

And made a hidden valley of their own. + 

No habitation there is seen; but such + 

As journey thither find themselves alone + 

With a few sheep, with rocks and stones, and kites + 

That overhead are sailing in the sky. + 

It is in truth an utter solitude; + 

Nor should I have made mention of this Dell + 

But for one object which you might pass by, + 

Might see and notice not. Beside the brook + 

There is a straggling heap of unhewn stones! + 

And to that place a story appertains, + 

Which, though it be ungarnished with events, + 

Is not unfit, I deem, for the fire-side, + 

Or for the summer shade. It was the first, + 

The earliest of those tales that spake to me + 

Of Shepherds, dwellers in the valleys, men + 

Whom I already loved, not verily + 

For their own sakes, but for the fields and hills + 

Where was their occupation and abode. + 

And hence this Tale, while I was yet a Boy + 

Careless of books, yet having felt the power + 

Of Nature, by the gentle agency + 

Of natural objects led me on to feel + 

For passions that were not my own, and think + 

(At random and imperfectly indeed) + 

On man, the heart of man, and human life. + 

Therefore, although it be a history + 

Homely and rude, I will relate the same + 

For the delight of a few natural hearts, + 

And, with yet fonder feeling, for the sake + 

Of youthful Poets, who among these Hills + 

Will be my second self when I am gone. + 

Upon the Forest-side in Grasmere Vale + 

There dwelt a Shepherd, Michael was his name, + 

An old man, stout of heart, and strong of limb. + 

His bodily frame had been from youth to age + 

Of an unusual strength: his mind was keen, + 

Intense and frugal, apt for all affairs, + 

And in his Shepherd’s calling he was prompt + 

And watchful more than ordinary men. + 

Hence he had learned the meaning of all winds, + 

Of blasts of every tone; and, oftentimes, + 

When others heeded not, He heard the South + 

Make subterraneous music, like the noise + 

Of Bagpipers on distant Highland hills; + 

The Shepherd, at such warning, of his flock + 

Bethought him, and he to himself would say, + 

“The winds are now devising work for me!” + 

And, truly, at all times the storm, that drives + 

The Traveller to a shelter, summoned him + 

Up to the mountains: he had been alone + 

Amid the heart of many thousand mists, + 

That came to him and left him on the heights. + 

So lived he till his eightieth year was past. + 

And grossly that man errs, who should suppose + 

That the green Valleys, and the Streams and Rocks + 

Were things indifferent to the Shepherd’s thoughts. + 

Fields, where with cheerful spirits he had breathed + 

The common air; the hills, which he so oft + 

Had climbed with vigorous steps; which had impressed + 

So many incidents upon his mind + 

Of hardship, skill or courage, joy or fear; + 

Which like a book preserved the memory + 

Of the dumb animals, whom he had saved, + 

Had fed or sheltered, linking to such acts, + 

So grateful in themselves, the certainty + 

Of honourable gain; these fields, these hills, + 

Which were his living Being, even more + 

Than his own blood⁠—what could they less? had laid + 

Strong hold on his affections, were to him + 

A pleasurable feeling of blind love, + 

The pleasure which there is in life itself. + 

He had not passed his days in singleness. + 

He had a Wife, a comely Matron, old⁠— + 

Though younger than himself full twenty years. + 

She was a woman of a stirring life, + 

Whose heart was in her house: two wheels she had + 

Of antique form, this large for spinning wool, + 

That small for flax; and if one wheel had rest, + 

It was because the other was at work. + 

The Pair had but one Inmate in their house, + 

An only Child, who had been born to them + 

When Michael telling o’er his years began + 

To deem that he was old⁠—in Shepherd’s phrase, + 

With one foot in the grave. This only Son, + 

With two brave Sheep-dogs tried in many a storm, + 

The one of an inestimable worth, + 

Made all their Household. I may truly say, + 

That they were as a proverb in the vale + 

For endless industry. When day was gone, + 

And from their occupations out of doors + 

The Son and Father were come home, even then + 

Their labour did not cease; unless when all + 

Turned to their cleanly supper-board, and there, + 

Each with a mess of pottage and skimmed milk, + 

Sat round their basket piled with oaten cakes, + 

And their plain home-made cheese. Yet when their meal + 

Was ended, Luke (for so the Son was named) + 

And his old Father both betook themselves + 

To such convenient work as might employ + 

Their hands by the fire-side; perhaps to card + 

Wool for the Housewife’s spindle, or repair + 

Some injury done to sickle, flail, or scythe, + 

Or other implement of house or field. + 

Down from the ceiling by the chimney’s edge, + 

Which in our ancient uncouth country style + 

Did with a huge projection overbrow + 

Large space beneath, as duly as the light + 

Of day grew dim the Housewife hung a Lamp; + 

An aged utensil, which had performed + 

Service beyond all others of its kind. + 

Early at evening did it burn and late, + 

Surviving Comrade of uncounted Hours, + 

Which going by from year to year had found + 

And left the couple neither gay perhaps + 

Nor cheerful, yet with objects and with hopes, + 

Living a life of eager industry. + 

And now, when Luke was in his eighteenth year, + 

There by the light of this old Lamp they sat, + 

Father and Son, while late into the night + 

The Housewife plied her own peculiar work, + 

Making the cottage through the silent hours + 

Murmur as with the sound of summer flies. + 

The Light was famous in its neighbourhood, + 

And was a public Symbol of the life + 

The thrifty Pair had lived. For, as it chanced, + 

Their Cottage on a plot of rising ground + 

Stood single, with large prospect, North and South, + 

High into Easedale, up to Dunmal-Raise, + 

And Westward to the village near the Lake; + 

And from this constant light, so regular + 

And so far seen, the House itself, by all + 

Who dwelt within the limits of the vale, + 

Both old and young, was named The Evening Star. + 

Thus living on through such a length of years, + 

The Shepherd, if he loved himself, must needs + 

Have loved his Help-mate; but to Michael’s heart + 

This son of his old age was yet more dear⁠— + 

Effect which might perhaps have been produced + 

By that instinctive tenderness, the same + 

Blind Spirit, which is in the blood of all⁠— + 

Or that a child, more than all other gifts, + 

Brings hope with it, and forward-looking thoughts, + 

And stirrings of inquietude, when they + 

By tendency of nature needs must fail. + 

From such, and other causes, to the thoughts + 

Of the old Man his only Son was now + 

The dearest object that he knew on earth. + 

Exceeding was the love he bare to him, + 

His Heart and his Heart’s joy! For oftentimes + 

Old Michael, while he was a babe in arms, + 

Had done him female service, not alone + 

For dalliance and delight, as is the use + 

Of Fathers, but with patient mind enforced + 

To acts of tenderness; and he had rocked + 

His cradle with a woman’s gentle hand. + 

And, in a later time, ere yet the Boy + 

Had put on Boy’s attire, did Michael love, + 

Albeit of a stern unbending mind, + 

To have the young one in his sight, when he + 

Had work by his own door, or when he sat + 

With sheep before him on his Shepherd’s stool, + 

Beneath that large old Oak, which near their door + 

Stood, and, from its enormous breadth of shade + 

Chosen for the Shearer’s covert from the sun, + 

Thence in our rustic dialect was called + 

The Clipping Tree, a name which yet it bears. + 

There, while they two were sitting in the shade, + 

With others round them, earnest all and blithe, + 

Would Michael exercise his heart with looks + 

Of fond correction and reproof bestowed + 

Upon the Child, if he disturbed the sheep + 

By catching at their legs, or with his shouts + 

Scared them, while they lay still beneath the shears. + 

And when by Heaven’s good grace the Boy grew up + 

A healthy Lad, and carried in his cheek + 

Two steady roses that were five years old, + 

Then Michael from a winter coppice cut + 

With his own hand a sapling, which he hooped + 

With iron, making it throughout in all + 

Due requisites a perfect Shepherd’s Staff, + 

And gave it to the Boy; wherewith equipt + 

He as a Watchman oftentimes was placed + 

At gate or gap, to stem or turn the flock; + 

And to his office prematurely called + 

There stood the Urchin, as you will divine, + 

Something between a hindrance and a help; + 

And for this cause not always, I believe, + 

Receiving from his Father hire of praise. + 

Though nought was left undone which staff or voice, + 

Or looks, or threatening gestures could perform. + 

But soon as Luke, full ten years old, could stand + 

Against the mountain blasts, and to the heights, + 

Not fearing toil, nor length of weary ways, + 

He with his Father daily went, and they + 

Were as companions, why should I relate + 

That objects which the Shepherd loved before + 

Were dearer now? that from the Boy there came + 

Feelings and emanations, things which were + 

Light to the sun and music to the wind; + 

And that the Old Man’s heart seemed born again. + 

Thus in his Father’s sight the Boy grew up: + 

And now when he had reached his eighteenth year, + 

He was his comfort and his daily hope. + 

While in the fashion which I have described + 

This simple Household thus were living on + 

From day to day, to Michael’s ear there came + 

Distressful tidings. Long before the time + 

Of which I speak, the Shepherd had been bound + 

In surety for his Brother’s Son, a man + 

Of an industrious life, and ample means⁠— + 

But unforeseen misfortunes suddenly + 

Had pressed upon him⁠—and old Michael now + 

Was summoned to discharge the forfeiture, + 

A grievous penalty, but little less + 

Than half his substance. This unlooked-for claim, + 

At the first hearing, for a moment took + 

More hope out of his life than he supposed + 

That any old man ever could have lost. + 

As soon as he had gathered so much strength + 

That he could look his trouble in the face, + 

It seemed that his sole refuge was to sell + 

A portion of his patrimonial fields. + 

Such was his first resolve; he thought again, + 

And his heart failed him. “Isabel,” said he, + 

Two evenings after he had heard the news, + 

“I have been toiling more than seventy years, + 

And in the open sun-shine of God’s love + 

Have we all lived; yet if these fields of ours + 

Should pass into a Stranger’s hand, I think + 

That I could not lie quiet in my grave. + 

Our lot is a hard lot; the Sun itself + 

Has scarcely been more diligent than I, + 

And I have lived to be a fool at last + 

To my own family. An evil Man + 

That was, and made an evil choice, if he + 

Were false to us; and if he were not false, + 

There are ten thousand to whom loss like this + 

Had been no sorrow. I forgive him⁠—but + 

’Twere better to be dumb than to talk thus. + 

When I began, my purpose was to speak + 

Of remedies and of a cheerful hope. + 

Our Luke shall leave us, Isabel; the land + 

Shall not go from us, and it shall be free; + 

He shall possess it, free as is the wind + 

That passes over it. We have, thou knowest, + 

Another Kinsman⁠—he will be our friend + 

In this distress. He is a prosperous man, + 

Thriving in trade⁠—and Luke to him shall go, + 

And with his Kinsman’s help and his own thrift + 

He quickly will repair this loss, and then + 

May come again to us. If here he stay, + 

What can be done? Where every one is poor + 

What can be gained?” At this the old man paused, + 

And Isabel sat silent, for her mind + 

Was busy, looking back into past times. + 

There’s Richard Bateman, thought she to herself, + 

He was a Parish-boy⁠—at the Church-door + 

They made a gathering for him, shillings, pence, + 

And halfpennies, wherewith the neighbours bought + 

A Basket, which they filled with Pedlar’s wares; + 

And with this Basket on his arm the Lad + 

Went up to London, found a Master there, + 

Who out of many chose the trusty Boy + 

To go and overlook his merchandise + 

Beyond the seas; where he grew wondrous rich, + 

And left estates and moneys to the poor, + 

And at his birth-place built a Chapel floored + 

With Marble, which he sent from foreign lands. + 

These thoughts, and many others of like sort, + 

Passed quickly through the mind of Isabel, + 

And her face brightened. The Old Man was glad, + 

And thus resumed:⁠—“Well, Isabel! this scheme + 

These two days has been meat and drink to me. + 

Far more than we have lost is left us yet. + 

—We have enough⁠—I wish indeed that I + 

Were younger⁠—but this hope is a good hope. + 

—Make ready Luke’s best garments, of the best + 

Buy for him more, and let us send him forth + 

Tomorrow, or the next day, or tonight: + 

—If he could go, the Boy should go tonight.” + 

Here Michael ceased, and to the fields went forth + 

With a light heart. The Housewife for five days + 

Was restless morn and night, and all day long + 

Wrought on with her best fingers to prepare + 

Things needful for the journey of her Son. + 

But Isabel was glad when Sunday came + 

To stop her in her work; for, when she lay + 

By Michael’s side, she for the two last nights + 

Heard him, how he was troubled in his sleep: + 

And when they rose at morning she could see + 

That all his hopes were gone. That day at noon + 

She said to Luke, while they two by themselves + 

Were sitting at the door, “Thou must not go: + 

We have no other child but thee to lose, + 

None to remember⁠—do not go away, + 

For if thou leave thy Father he will die.” + 

The Lad made answer with a jocund voice; + 

And Isabel, when she had told her fears, + 

Recovered heart. That evening her best fare + 

Did she bring forth, and all together sat + 

Like happy people round a Christmas fire. + 

Next morning Isabel resumed her work; + 

And all the ensuing week the house appeared + 

As cheerful as a grove in Spring: at length + 

The expected letter from their Kinsman came, + 

With kind assurances that he would do + 

His utmost for the welfare of the Boy; + 

To which requests were added that forthwith + 

He might be sent to him. Ten times or more + 

The letter was read over; Isabel + 

Went forth to show it to the neighbours round; + 

Nor was there at that time on English Land + 

A prouder heart than Luke’s. When Isabel + 

Had to her house returned, the Old Man said, + 

“He shall depart tomorrow.” To this word + 

The Housewife answered, talking much of things + 

Which, if at such short notice he should go, + 

Would surely be forgotten. But at length + 

She gave consent, and Michael was at ease. + 

Near the tumultuous brook of Green-head Gill, + 

In that deep Valley, Michael had designed + 

To build a sheep-fold; and, before he heard + 

The tidings of his melancholy loss, + 

For this same purpose he had gathered up + 

A heap of stones, which close to the brook side + 

Lay thrown together, ready for the work. + 

With Luke that evening thitherward he walked; + 

And soon as they had reached the place he stopped, + 

And thus the Old Man spake to him:⁠—“My Son, + 

Tomorrow thou wilt leave me: with full heart + 

I look upon thee, for thou art the same + 

That wert a promise to me ere thy birth, + 

And all thy life hast been my daily joy. + 

I will relate to thee some little part + 

Of our two histories; ’t will do thee good + 

When thou art from me, even if I should speak + 

Of things thou canst not know of.⁠—After thou + 

First cam’st into the world, as it befalls + 

To new-born infants, thou didst sleep away + 

Two days, and blessings from thy Father’s tongue + 

Then fell upon thee. Day by day passed on, + 

And still I loved thee with increasing love. + 

Never to living ear came sweeter sounds + 

Than when I heard thee by our own fire-side + 

First uttering, without words, a natural tune; + 

When thou, a feeding babe, didst in thy joy + 

Sing at thy Mother’s breast. Month followed month, + 

And in the open fields my life was passed + 

And in the mountains, else I think that thou + 

Hadst been brought up upon thy Father’s knees. + 

But we were playmates, Luke: among these hills, + 

As well thou know’st, in us the old and young + 

Have played together, nor with me didst thou + 

Lack any pleasure which a boy can know.” + 

Luke had a manly heart; but at these words + 

He sobbed aloud. The Old Man grasped his hand, + 

And said, “Nay, do not take it so⁠—I see + 

That these are things of which I need not speak. + 

—Even to the utmost I have been to thee + 

A kind and a good Father: and herein + 

I but repay a gift which I myself + 

Received at others’ hands; for, though now old + 

Beyond the common life of man, I still + 

Remember them who loved me in my youth. + 

Both of them sleep together: here they lived, + 

As all their Forefathers had done; and when + 

At length their time was come, they were not loth + 

To give their bodies to the family mould. + 

I wished that thou shouldst live the life they lived. + 

But ’tis a long time to look back, my Son, + 

And see so little gain from sixty years. + 

These fields were burthened when they came to me; + 

Till I was forty years of age, not more + 

Than half of my inheritance was mine. + 

I toiled and toiled; God blessed me in my work, + 

And till these three weeks past the land was free. + 

—It looks as if it never could endure + 

Another Master. Heaven forgive me, Luke, + 

If I judge ill for thee, but it seems good + 

That thou shouldst go.” At this the Old Man paus’d; + 

Then, pointing to the Stones near which they stood, + 

Thus, after a short silence, he resumed: + 

“This was a work for us; and now, my Son, + 

It is a work for me. But, lay one Stone⁠— + 

Here, lay it for me, Luke, with thine own hands. + 

Nay, Boy, be of good hope:⁠—we both may live + 

To see a better day. At eighty-four + 

I still am strong and stout;⁠—do thou thy part, + 

I will do mine.⁠—I will begin again + 

With many tasks that were resigned to thee; + 

Up to the heights, and in among the storms, + 

Will I without thee go again, and do + 

All works which I was wont to do alone, + 

Before I knew thy face.⁠—Heaven bless thee, Boy! + 

Thy heart these two weeks has been beating fast + 

With many hopes⁠—It should be so⁠—Yes⁠—yes⁠— + 

I knew that thou couldst never have a wish + 

To leave me, Luke: thou hast been bound to me + 

Only by links of love: when thou art gone, + 

What will be left to us!⁠—But, I forget + 

My purposes. Lay now the corner-stone, + 

As I requested; and hereafter, Luke, + 

When thou art gone away, should evil men + 

Be thy companions, think of me, my Son, + 

And of this moment; hither turn thy thoughts, + 

And God will strengthen thee: amid all fear + 

And all temptation, Luke, I pray that thou + 

Mayst bear in mind the life thy Fathers lived, + 

Who, being innocent, did for that cause + 

Bestir them in good deeds. Now, fare thee well⁠— + 

When thou return’st, thou in this place wilt see + 

A work which is not here; a covenant + 

’Twill be between us⁠—But whatever fate + 

Befall thee, I shall love thee to the last, + 

And bear thy memory with me to the grave.” + 

The Shepherd ended here; and Luke stooped down, + 

And, as his Father had requested, laid + 

The first stone of the Sheep-fold. At the sight + 

The Old Man’s grief broke from him, to his heart + 

He pressed his Son, he kissed him and wept; + 

And to the House together they returned. + 

Next morning, as had been resolved, the Boy + 

Began his journey, and when he had reached + 

The public Way, he put on a bold face; + 

And all the Neighbours as he passed their doors + 

Came forth with wishes and with farewell prayers, + 

That followed him till he was out of sight. + 

A good report did from their Kinsman come, + 

Of Luke and his well-doing: and the Boy + 

Wrote loving letters, full of wondrous news, + 

Which, as the Housewife phrased it, were throughout + 

The prettiest letters that were ever seen. + 

Both parents read them with rejoicing hearts. + 

So, many months passed on: and once again + 

The Shepherd went about his daily work + 

With confident and cheerful thoughts; and now + 

Sometimes when he could find a leisure hour + 

He to that valley took his way, and there + 

Wrought at the Sheep-fold. Meantime Luke began + 

To slacken in his duty; and at length + 

He in the dissolute city gave himself + 

To evil courses: ignominy and shame + 

Fell on him, so that he was driven at last + 

To seek a hiding-place beyond the seas. + 

There is a comfort in the strength of love; + 

’Twill make a thing endurable, which else + 

Would break the heart:⁠—Old Michael found it so. + 

I have conversed with more than one who well + 

Remember the Old Man, and what he was + 

Years after he had heard this heavy news. + 

His bodily frame had been from youth to age + 

Of an unusual strength. Among the rocks + 

He went, and still looked up upon the sun, + 

And listened to the wind; and as before + 

Performed all kinds of labour for his Sheep, + 

And for the land his small inheritance. + 

And to that hollow Dell from time to time + 

Did he repair, to build the Fold of which + 

His flock had need. ’Tis not forgotten yet + 

The pity which was then in every heart + 

For the Old Man⁠—and ’tis believed by all + 

That many and many a day he thither went, + 

And never lifted up a single stone. + 

There, by the Sheep-fold, sometimes was he seen + 

Sitting alone, with that his faithful Dog, + 

Then old, beside him, lying at his feet. + 

The length of full seven years from time to time + 

He at the building of this Sheep-fold wrought, + 

And left the work unfinished when he died. + 

Three years, or little more, did Isabel + 

Survive her Husband: at her death the estate + 

Was sold, and went into a Stranger’s hand. + 

The Cottage which was named The Evening Star + 

Is gone⁠—the ploughshare has been through the ground + 

On which it stood; great changes have been wrought + 

In all the neighbourhood:⁠—yet the Oak is left + 

That grew beside their Door; and the remains + 

Of the unfinished Sheep-fold may be seen + 

Beside the boisterous brook of Green-head Gill. + 