That heareth not the loud winds when they call XII. At length, himself unsettling, he the pond ee This morning gives us promise of a glorious day." XIII. 80 A gentle answer did the old Man make, 85 In courteous speech which forth he slowly drew: "What occupation do you there pursue? This is a lonesome place for one like you." Ere he replied, a flash of mild surprise 90 Broke from the sable orbs of his yet-vivid eyes, XIV. His words came feebly, from a feeble chest, With something of a lofty utterance drest Choice word and measured phrase, above the reach Such as grave Livers do in Scotland use, Religious men, who give to God and man their dues. XV. He told, that to these waters he had come To gather leeches, being old and poor : 95 100 Employment hazardous and wearisome! And he had many hardships to endure: From pond to pond he roamed, from moor to moor; XVI. The old Man still stood talking by my side; Scarce heard; nor word from word could I divide; Or like a man from some far region sent, To give me human strength, by apt admonishment. XVII. My former thoughts returned: the fear that kills; And hope that is unwilling to be fed; Cold, pain, and labour, and all fleshly ills; 115 And mighty Poets in their misery dead. -Perplexed, and longing to be comforted, My question eagerly did I renew, ९९ How is it that you live, and what is it you do?" XVIII. He with a smile did then his words repeat; The waters of the pools where they abide. ee Once I could meet with them on every side; 120 125 XIX. While he was talking thus, the lonely place, The old Man's shape, and speech - all troubled me: Wandering about alone and silently. While I these thoughts within myself pursued, He, having made a pause, the same discourse renewed. XX. And soon with this he other matter blended, But stately in the main; and when he ended, "God," said I, "be my help and stay secure ; I'll think of the Leech-gatherer on the lonely moor!" 130 135 140 1802. STANZAS Written in my Pocket-Copy of Thomson's "CASTLE OF INDOLENCE." WITHIN Our happy Castle there dwelt One But go to-morrow, or belike to-day, Seek for him, he is fled; and whither none can say. 5 Thus often would he leave our peaceful home, Out of our Valley's limits did he roam : Full many a time, upon a stormy night, His voice came to us from the neighbouring height: At mid-day when the sun was shining bright; A mighty wonder bred among our quiet crew. Ah! piteous sight it was to see this Man ΤΟ 15 20 Down would he sit; and without strength or power 25 And, like a naked Indian, slept himself away. Great wonder to our gentle tribe it was 30 Some thought far worse of him, and judged him wrong; And his own mind did like a tempest strong 35 Come to him thus, and drove the weary Wight along. With him there often walked in friendly guise, Or lay upon the moss by brook or tree, 40 Heavy his low-hung lip did oft appear, Deprest by weight of musing Phantasy; Profound his forehead was, though not severe; Yet some did think that he had little business here: 45 Sweet heaven forfend! his was a lawful right; Noisy he was, and gamesome as a boy; His limbs would toss about him with delight Like branches when strong winds the trees annoy. 50 He would have taught you how you might employ And certes not in vain; he had inventions rare. Expedients, too, of simplest sort he tried: 55 Long blades of grass, plucked round him as he lay, A pipe on which the wind would deftly play; Glasses he had, that little things display, The beetle panoplied in gems and gold, 60 The mysteries that cups of flowers enfold, And all the gorgeous sights which fairies do behold. He would entice that other Man to hear His music, and to view his imagery: And, sooth, these two were each to the other dear : 65 There did they dwell from earthly labour free, As happy spirits as were ever seen; If but a bird, to keep them company, Or butterfly sate down, they were, I ween, As pleased as if the same had been a Maiden-queen. 70 |