Imágenes de página





Went forth to show it to the neighbours And in the open fields my life was passed round;

And on the mountains; else I think that Nor was there at that time on English land

thou A prouder heart than Luke's. When Isabel Hadst been brought up upon thy Father's Had to her house returned, the old Man

knees. said,

But we were playmates, Luke: among “He shall depart to-morrow.” To this these hills, word

As well thou knowest, in us the old and The Housewife answered, talking much of young things

Have played together, nor with me didst Which, if at such short notice he should go,

319 Lack any pleasure which a boy can know.” Would surely be forgotten. But at length Luke bad a manly heart; but at these words She gave consent, and Michael was at ease. He sobbed aloud. The old Man grasped Near the tumultuous brook of Greenhead

his hand, Ghyll,

And said, “ Nay, do not take it so - I see In that deep valley, Michael had designed That these are things of which I need not To build a Sheepfold; and, before he heard

360 The tidings of bis melancholy loss,

- Even to the utmost I have been to thee For this same purpose he had gathered up A kind and a good Father: and herein A heap of stones, which by the streamlet's I but repay a gift which I myself edge

Received at others' hands; for, though now Lay thrown together, ready for the work.

old With Luke that evening thitherward he Beyond the common life of man, I still walked:

Remember them who loved me in my youth. And soon as they had reached the place he Both of them sleep together: here they stopped,

lived, And thus the old Man spake to him: - As all their Forefathers had done; and “My Son,

when To-morrow thou wilt leave me: with full At length their time was come, they were heart

not loth I look upon thee, for thou art the same To give their bodies to the family mould. That wert a promise to me ere thy birth, I wished that thou should'st live the life And all thy life hast been my daily joy.

they lived:

371 I will relate to thee some little part

But, 't is a long time to look back, my Son, Of our two histories; 't will do thee good And see so little gain from threescore years. When thou art from me, even if I should These fields were burthened when they touch

came to me; On things thou canst not know of. Till I was forty years of age, not more After thou

Than half of my inheritance was mine. First cam'st into the world - as oft befalls I toiled and toiled; God blessed me in my To new-born infants — thou didst sleep • work, away

341 And till these three weeks past the land Two days, and blessings from thy Father's was free. tongne

- It looks as if it never could endure Then fell upon thee. Day by day passed Another Master. Heaven forgive me, on,

Luke, And still I loved thee with increasing love. If I judge ill for thee, but it seems good Never to living ear came sweeter sounds That thou should'st go." Than when I heard thee by our own fireside

At this the old Man paused; First uttering, without words, a natural Then, pointing to the stones near which tune;

they stood, While thou, a feeding babe, didst in thy joy Thus, after a short silence, he resumed: Sing at thy Mother's breast. Month fola “ This was a work for us; and now, my Son, lowed month,

| It is a work for me. But, lay one stone




Here, lay it for me, Luke, with thine own Began his journey, and when he bad reached hands.

The public way, he put on a bold face; Nay, Boy, be of good hope; — we both may And all the neighbours, as he passed their live

doors, To see a better day. At eighty-four Came forth with wishes and with farewell I still am strong and hale; - do thou thy

prayers, part;

That followed him till he was out of sight. I will do mine. — I will begin again

A good report did from their Kinsman With many tasks that were resigned to thee:

come, Up to the heights, and in among the storms, Of Luke and his well-doing: and the Boy Will I without thee go again, and do Wrote loving letters, full of wondrons news, All works which I was wont to do alone, Which, as the Housewife phrased it, were Before I knew thy face. — Heaven bless

throughout thee, boy!

“The prettiest letters that were ever seen.” Thy heart these two weeks has been beat Both parents read them with rejoicing ing fast

hearts. With many hopes; it should be so — yes — So, many months passed on: and once again yes —

The Shepherd went about his daily work I knew that thou could'st never have a wish With confident and cheerful thoughts; and To leave me, Luke: thou hast been bound


439 to me


Sometimes when he could find a leisure hour Only by links of love: when thou art gone, He to that valley took his way, and there What will be left to us!— But, I forget Wrought at the Sheepfold. Meantime Luke My purposes. Lay now the corner-stone,

began As I requested; and hereafter, Luke,

To slacken in his duty; and, at length, When thou art gone away, should evil men He in the dissolute city gave himself Be thy companions, think of me, my Son, To evil courses: ignominy and shame And of this moment; hither turn thy | Fell on him, so that he was driven at last thoughts,

To seek a hiding-place beyond the seas. And God will strengthen thee: amid all fear There is a comfort in the strength of love; And all temptation, Luke, I pray that thou | 'T will make a thing endurable, which else May'st bear in mind the life thy Fathers Would overset the brain, or break the heart: lived,

410 I have conversed with more than one who Who, being innocent, did for that cause

. well

451 Bestir them in good deeds. Now, fare thee | Remember the old Man, and what he was well —

Years after he had heard this heavy news. When thou return'st, thou in this place wilt His bodily frame had been from youth to see

age A work which is not here: a covenant | Of an unusual strength. Among the rocks 'T will be between us; but, whatever fate He went, and still looked up to sun and Befall thee, I shall love thee to the last,

cloud, And bear thy memory with me to the grave." And listened to the wind; and, as before, The Shepherd ended here; and Luke Performed all kinds of labour for his sheep, stooped down,

And for the land, his small inheritance. 459 And, as his Father had requested, laid And to that hollow dell from time to time The first stone of the Sheepfold. At the Did he repair, to build the Fold of which sight


His flock had need. 'T is not forgotten yet The old Man's grief broke from him; to The pity which was then in every heart his heart

For the old Man - and 't is believed by all He pressed his Son, he kissed him and wept; That many and many a day he thither went, And to the house together they returned. And never lifted up a single stone. - Hushed was that House in peace, or There, by the Sheepfold, sometimes was seeming peace,

he seen Ere the night fell : – with morrow's dawn | Sitting alone, or with his faithful Dog, the Boy

Then old, beside him, lying at his feet.



The length of full seven years, from time Over his own sweet voice the Stock-dove to time,


broods; He at the building of this Sheepfold The Jay makes answer as the Magpie wrought,

chatters; And left the work unfinished when he died. And all the air is filled with pleasant noise Three years, or little more, did Isabel

of waters. Survive her Husband: at herdeath the estate Was sold, and went into a stranger's hand.

. II The Cottage which was named the EVEN All things that love the sun are out of doors; ING STAR

The sky rejoices in the morning's birth; Is gone — the ploughshare has been through The grass is bright with rain-drops; - on the ground

the moors On which it stood; great changes have been The hare is running races in her mirth; wrought

And with her feet she from the plashy earth In all the neighbourhood:— yet the oak is Raises a mist, that, glittering in the sun, left

Runs with her all the way, wherever she That grew beside their door; and the re

doth run. mains

- 480
Of the unfivished Sheepfold may be seen
Beside the boisterous brook of Greenhead | I was a Traveller then upon the moor,

I saw the hare that raced about with joy;
I heard the woods and distant waters roar;

Or heard them not, as happy as a boy: “MY HEART LEAPS UP WHEN

The pleasant season did my heart employ: I BEHOLD"

Myold remembrances went from me wholly; [Publ. 1807]

And all the ways of men, so vain and melancholy.

21 My heart leaps up when I behold

A rainbow in the sky:
So was it when my life began;

But, as it sometimes chanceth, from the So is it now I am a man;

might So be it when I shall grow old,

Of joy in minds that can no further go, Or let me die!

As high as we have mounted in delight The Child is father of the Man;

In our dejection do we sink as low; And I could wish my days to be

To me that morning did it happen so;
Bound each to each by natural piety.

And fears and fancies thick upon me came;
Dim sadness -- and blind thoughts, I knew

not, nor could name. RESOLUTION AND INDE

(Publ. 1807]

I heard the sky-lark warbling in the sky;

And I bethought me of the playful hare: 30 Written at Town-end, Grasmere. This old

Even such a happy Child of earth am I; Man I met a few hundred yards from my cot

Even as these blissful creatures do I fare; tage; and the account of him is taken from

Far from the world I walk, and from all care; his own mouth. I was in the state of feeling described in the beginning of the poem, while

But there may come another day to me crossing over Barton Fell from Mr. Clarkson's, Solitude, pain of heart, distress, and poverty. at the foot of Ullswater, towards Askham. The image of the hare I then observed on the

VI ridge of the Fell.

My whole life I have lived in pleasant

thought, THERE was a roaring in the wind all night; | As if life's business were a summer mood; The rain came heavily and fell in floods; I As if all needful things would come unBut now the sun is rising calm and bright;

sought The birds are singing in the distant woods; | To genial faith, still rich in genial good;


But how can He expect that others should
Build for him, sow for him, and at his call
Love him, who for himself will take no heed

at all ?

Motionless as a cloud the old Man stood,
That heareth not the loud winds when they

And moveth all together, if it move at all.





I thought of Chatterton, the marvellous Boy, | At length, himself unsettling, he the pond The sleepless Soul that perished in his pride; Stirred with his staff, and fixedly did look Of Him who walked in glory and in joy Upon the muddy water, which he conned, Following his plough, along the mountain-| As if he had been reading in a book: 81 side:

· And now a stranger's privilege I took; By our own spirits are we deified:

And, drawing to his side, to bim did say, We Poets in our youth begin in gladness; “This morning gives us promise of a gloriBut thereof come in the end despondency

ous day."
and madness.


A gentle answer did the old Man make, Now, whether it were by peculiar grace, 50 In courteous speech which forth he slowly A leading from above, a something given,

drew: Yet it befell, that, in this lonely place, And him with further words I thus bespake, When I with these untoward thoughts had “ What occupation do you there pursue ? striven,

This is a lonesome place for one like you." Beside a pool bare to the eye of heaven Ere he replied, a flash of mild surprise 90 I saw a Man before me unawares:

Broke from the sable orbs of his yet-vivid The oldest man he seemed that ever wore

eyes, grey hairs.


His words came feebly, from a feeble chest, As a huge stone is sometimes seen to lie But each in solemn order followed each, Couched on the bald top of an eminence; With something of a lofty utterance drestWonder to all who do the same espy, Choice word and measured phrase, above By what means it could thither come, and

the reach whence;

Of ordinary men; a stately speech; So that it seems a thing endued with sense: Such as grave Livers do in Scotland use, Like a sea-beast crawled forth, that on a Religious men, who give to God and man shelf

their dues. Of rock or sand reposeth, there to sun itself;


He told, that to these waters he had come Such seemed this Man, not all alive nor To gather leeches, being old and poor: 100 dead,

Employment bazardous and wearisome! Nor all asleep - in his extreme old age: And he had many hardships to endure: His body was bent double, feet and head From pond to pond he roamed, from moor Coming together in life's pilgrimage;

to moor; As if some dire constraint of pain, or rage Housing, with God's good help, by choice Of sickness felt by him in times long past,

or chance, A more than humau weight upon his frame And in this way he gained an honest mainhad cast.

tenance. XI

XVI Himself he propped, limbs, body, and pale The old Man still stood talking by my side; face,

But now his voice to me was like a stream Upon a long grey staff of shaven wood: Scarce heard; nor word from word could And, still as I drew near with gentle pace,

I divide; Upon the margin of that moorish flood | And the whole body of the Man did seem







I 20

[ocr errors]


Like one whom I had met with in a dream; COMPOSED UPON WESTMINOr like a man from some far region sent, STER BRIDGE, SEPT. 3, 1802 To give me human strength, by apt admon

[Publ. 1807] ishment.

Earth has not anything to show more fair:

Dull would he be of soul who could pass by My former thoughts returned: the fear that A sight so touching in its majesty: kills;

This City now doth, like a garment, wear And hope that is unwilling to be fed; The beauty of the morning; silent, bare, Cold, pain, and labour, and all fleshly Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples ills;

lie And mighty Poets in their misery dead. Open unto the fields, and to the sky; – Perplexed, and longing to be comforted, All bright and glittering in the smokeless My question eagerly did I renew,

“ How is it that you live, and what is it you Never did sun more beautifully steep
do ?

In his first splendour, valley, rock, or hill;
Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep!

The river glideth at his own sweet will: He with a smile did then his words re Dear God! the very houses seem asleep;

And all that mighty heart is lying still ! And said, that, gathering leeches, far and

wide He travelled; stirring thus above his feet

COMPOSED BY THE SEASIDE, The waters of the pools where they abide. NEAR CALAIS, AUGUST 1802 “Once I could meet with them on every

[Publ. 1807] side; But they have dwindled long by slow de Fair Star of evening, Splendour of the west, cay;

Star of my Country! — on the horizon's brink Yet still I persevere, and find them where Thou hangest, stooping, as might seem, to I may.”


On England's bosom; yet well pleased to XIX

rest, While he was talking thus, the lonely place, Meanwhile, and be to her a glorious crest The old Man's shape, and speech — all Conspicuous to the Nations. Thon, I think, troubled me:

Should'st be my Country's emblem; and In my mind's eye I seemed to see him

should'st wink, pace

Bright Star! with laughter on her banners, About the weary moors continually, 130

drest Wandering about alone and silently.

In thy fresh beauty. There! that dusky spot While I these thoughts within myself pur Beneath thee, that is England; there she sued,

lies. He, having made a pause, the same dis- | Blessings be on you both! one hope, one lot, course renewed.

One life, one glory!- I, with many a fear

For my dear Country, many heartfelt sighs, XX

Among men who do not love her, linger here. And soon with this he other matter blended, Cheerfully uttered, with demeanour kind, But stately in the main; and when he ended, “ IT IS A BEAUTEOUS EVENI could have laughed myself to scorn to I ING, CALM AND FREE"

find In that decrepit Man so firm a mind.

(Publ. 18071 “God," said I, “ be my help and stay se- It is a beauteous evening, calm and free, cure;

The holy time is quiet as a Nun I'll think of the Leech-gatherer on the Breathless with adoration; the broad sun lonely moor!”

140 | Is sinking down in its tranquillity;

« AnteriorContinuar »