He tracks her motions, quick or slow,
Her buoyant spirit can prevail
Where common cheerfulness would fail ;
She strikes upon him with the heat
Of July suns; he feels it sweet;
An animal delight though dim!
'Tis all that now remains for him!

The more I looked, I wondered moreAnd, while I scanned them o'er and o'er, Some inward trouble suddenly

Broke from the Matron's strong black eye-
A remnant of uneasy light,

A flash of something over-bright!
Nor long this mystery did detain

My thoughts;-she told in pensive strain
That she had borne a heavy yoke,
Been stricken by a twofold stroke;
Ill health of body; and had pined
Beneath worse ailments of the mind.

So be it !—but let praise ascend
To Him who is our lord and friend!
Who from disease and suffering
Hath called for thee a second spring;
Repaid thee for that sore distress
By no untimely joyousness;
Which makes of thine a blissful state;
And cheers thy melancholy Mate!

XIV

"FLY, SOME KIND HARBINGER, TO GRASMERE-DALE!"

This was actually composed the last day of our tour between Dalston and Grasmere.

FLY, some kind Harbinger, to Grasmeredale!

Say that we come, and come by this day's light;

Fly upon swiftest wing round field and height,

But chiefly let one Cottage hear the tale ;
There let a mystery of joy prevail,
The kitten frolic, like a gamesome sprite,
And Rover whine, as at a second sight
Of near-approaching good that shall not
fail:

And from that Infant's face let joy appear;
Yea, let our Mary's one companion child-
That hath her six weeks' solitude beguiled
With intimations manifold and dear,

While we have wandered over wood and wild

Smile on his Mother now with bolder cheer.

XV

THE BLIND HIGHLAND BOY

A TALE TOLD BY THE FIRE-SIDE, AFTER RETURNING TO THE VALE OF GRASMERE

The story was told me by George Mackereth, for many years parish-clerk of Grasmere. He had been an eye-witness of the occurrence. The vessel in reality was a washing-tub, which the little fellow had met with on the shore of the Loch.

Now we are tired of boisterous joy,
Have romped enough, my little Boy!
Jane hangs her head upon my breast,
And you shall bring your stool and rest;
This corner is your own.

There! take your seat, and let me see
That you can listen quietly:
And, as I promised, I will tell
That strange adventure which befell

A poor blind Highland Boy.

A Highland Boy!-why call him so?
Because, my Darlings, ye must know
That, under hills which rise like towers,
Far higher hills than these of ours!
He from his birth had lived.

He ne'er had seen one earthly sight
The sun,
the day; the stars, the night;
Or tree, or butterfly, or flower,
Or fish in stream, or bird in bower,
Or woman, man, or child.

And yet he neither drooped nor pined,
Nor had a melancholy mind;
For God took pity on the Boy,
And was his friend; and gave him joy
Of which we nothing know.

His Mother, too, no doubt, above
Her other children him did love:
For, was she here, or was she there,
She thought of him with constant care,
And more than mother's love.

And proud she was of heart, when, clad
In crimson stockings, tartan plaid,
And bonnet with a feather gay,
To Kirk he on the Sabbath day

Went hand in hand with her.

But hark! a gratulating voice,
With which the very hills rejoice:
'Tis from the crowd, who tremblingly
Have watched the event, and now can

see

That he is safe at last.

And then, when he was brought to land,
Full sure they were a happy band,
Which, gathering round, did on the banks
Of that great Water give God thanks,
And welcomed the poor Child.

And in the general joy of heart
The blind Boy's little dog took part;
He leapt about, and oft did kiss
His master's hands in sign of bliss,
With sound like lamentation.

But most of all, his Mother dear,
She who had fainted with her fear,
Rejoiced when waking she espies
The Child; when she can trust her eyes,
And touches the blind Boy.

She led him home, and wept amain,
When he was in the house again:
Tears flowed in torrents from her eyes;
She kissed him-how could she chastise?
She was too happy far.

Thus, after he had fondly braved
The perilous Deep, the Boy was saved;
And, though his fancies had been wild,
Yet he was pleased and reconciled
To live in peace on shore.

And in the lonely Highland dell
Still do they keep the Turtle-shell
And long the story will repeat
Of the blind Boy's adventurous feat,
And how he was preserved.

NOTE. It is recorded in Dampier's Voyages, that a boy, son of the captain of a Man-of-War, seated himself in a Turtle-shell, and floated in it from the shore to his father's ship, which lay at anchor at the distance of half a mile. In deference to the opinion of a Friend, I have substituted such a shell for the less elegant vessel in which my blind Voyager did actually entrust himself to the dangerous current of Loch Leven, as was related to me by an eye-witness.

With words of apprehension and despair: While tens of thousands, thinking on the affray,

Men unto whom sufficient for the day
And minds not stinted or untilled are given,
Sound, healthy, children of the God of
heaven,

Are cheerful as the rising sun in May.
What do we gather hence but firmer faith
That every gift of noble origin

Is breathed upon by Hope's perpetual breath;

That virtue and the faculties within
Are vital,—and that riches are akin
To fear, to change, to cowardice, and death?

ENGLAND! THE TIME IS COME WHEN THOU SHOULD'ST WEAN"

ENGLAND! the time is come when thou should'st wean

Thy heart from its emasculating food;
The truth should now be better understood;
Old things have been unsettled; we have

seen

Fair seed-time, better harvest might have been

But for thy trespasses; and, at this day,
If for Greece, Egypt, India, Africa,
Aught good were destined, thou would'st

step between.

England! all nations in this charge agree: But worse, more ignorant in love and

hate,

Far-far more abject, is thine Enemy: Therefore the wise pray for thee, though the freight

Of thy offences be a heavy weight: Oh grief that Earth's best hopes rest all with Thee! 1803.

OCTOBER 1803

WHEN, looking on the present ace of

things,

I see one Man, of men the meanest too!
Raised up to sway the world, to do, undo,
With mighty Nations for his underlings,
The great events with which old story rings
Seem vain and hollow; I find nothing great:
Nothing is left which I can venerate;
So that a doubt almost within me springs
Of Providence, such emptiness at length

IN THE PASS OF KILLICRANKY An invasion being expected, October 1803. SIX thousand veterans practised in war's game,

Tried men, at Killicranky were arrayed Against an equal host that wore the plaid, Shepherds and herdsmen.-Like a whirlwind came

The Highlanders, the slaughter spread like flame;

And Garry, thundering down his mountainroad,

Was stopped, and could not breathe beneath the load

Of the dead bodies. -'Twas a day of shame For them whom precept and the pedantry Of cold mechanic battle do enslave.