The Excursion - Book Seventh - The Churchyard Among The Mountains - (continued) Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABCDEFGGHGIJKLMNOPQR SGLTUBVGWX YCZA2GB2Z C2D2E2F2HG2H2I2J2K2H 2EL2M2N2I2O2L2P2I2L2 L2I2L2I2L2L2QI2L2L2Q 2I2L2R2I2L2EI2S2L2ET 2U2L2L2EI2Q2L2V2GL2L 2W2FL2X2Y2L2Z2I2L2I2 A3I2L2EL2L2I2L2EB3 I2S2L2L2GL2UL2I2Z2EI 2EL2C3I2I2 Z2D3L2T2I2GGI2GR2L2L 2L2EB2I2I2E3I2GL2F3G EEL2L2L2L2L2L2L2EL2L 2G3EL2U2I2I2GI2I2GI2 L2GH3I2L2I2GI2I2ED3I 2I2EI2I2A3I2L2 L2L2L2L2L2L2GGL2L2I2 I3J3I2L2I2B3 EK3I2I2L2L3L2L2GI2L2 L2L2M3GEL3I2L2EL2FL2 L2L2QN3L2I2L2L2L2X2 I2EO3I2L2I2FP3L2L2Q3 O3I2L2GL2GL2FL2G GL3L2GI2I2I2R3L2EQ2L 2L2L2L2EZ2L2Y2S3A3L2 L2I2P3L2L2GGL2I2GT3L 2I2L2L2U3L2EL2I2GV3B 2L2EL2W3I2X3L2L2L2EI 2M3I2I2P3L2L2L3GL2L2 GI2L2Y3L2L2V2D3I2U3I 2L2L2 Z3L2I2A4EL2L2I2L2L2L 2A4A3I2L2L2I2Q2GI2I2 UL2GW2EU2L3R3GL2I2L2 L2I2L2I2GL2I2Q2L2L2L 3GL2L2Q2Q2L3L2I2TGL2 EL2GL3B4C4I2Q2D4EW3Q 2S3L2W3I2Y3I2L2I2M3G L2I2L2L2E4L2EL3I2L2L 2G Q2R2Q2L2L2L2L3L2W3Q2 L2I2GQ2I2G3I2L2L2L2L 2I2EL2F4Q2GL2L2L2EL2 I2I2L3 L2L2I2R2I2L3I2L3L2I2 I2I2L2L2L2GL2I2L3 I2GQ2L2W3G4L2L2I2L2B 2H4I2GL2M3I2I2EL3I4L 2I2L2Q2L2L2T2L2I2J4G L2L2 I2L2I2UL2I2Q2Q2L3I2Q 2J4Q2O3L2L2I2L2L2GI2 L2I2L2L2L2L2K4L2L2 Q2L4Q2U I2QL2L2L2EY3I2I2R3M4 L2I2I2 EGL2L2I2I2I2L2I2Q2W3 L2L2L2GQ2W3L2EL2Q2L2 I2 L2J4EL2EL2I2I2GL2I2N 4Q2L2EO4L2I2P4L2I2Q2 L2H3L2I2GL2L3L2I2L2I 2GQ4L2I2L2EI2I4Q2X2L 2L2E Q2I2I2Z2L2L2Q2EF4K3E I2M3Q2L2X2 L2L2GL2I2GH4EL2L2I2L 2L2L2EL2EI2I2L2R4L2L 3T2 Q2L4EGL2I2B2EQ2EL2L2 L2I2I2I2M3Q2Z2I2L2 L2GL2I2L3L2I4I2I4I2I 2L2I2S3I2I4L2GI2GS4L 3L2Q2L2Q2EI2EGI2UGL2 I2I2T4L2I2T2L2I2I2Q2 L2L2L2W3U4L3L2L2I2I2 L2L2V4L2W4I2I2GT2I2L 2I2L2I2I2I2Q2L2I2GL2 L2I2Q2Z2L3I4L2L2L2L2 X4I2L2L2 GL2Y4L2I2 UI2Q4Z4I2L3L2I2I2L2I 2I2L2L2I2 GL2I2I2V3L2I2I4I2Q2L 2I2 I2L2I2L2Q2I2I2I2I2I2 L2L2I2L2Q2 L2L2L2I2I2L2I2L2I2I2 L2I2L2L2Q2Q2I2 I2I2L2L2EI2I2L2I2I2L 2I2 C3Q2L2I2EL2L3L2I2I2L 2I4L2I2EI2I2L2Q2I2L2 EQ2I2EL2L3L2I2 L2M3L2L2I2L2I2I2I2L2 F4I2L2EL2T2Q2Q2L2QI2 GQ2EL2I2I2L2EL2M3I2I 2L2L2EI4I2L2L2Q2L3Q2 L2EI2I2L2R2L2 L2L2L2Q2L2L2L2I2L2L2 I2L2L2Q2I2Q2L3I2L2I2 I2L2Q2T2E3I4I2I4I2I2 L2 I2L2I2Q2I2I2L2I2L3I2 L2L2I2M3L2L2EL2Q2I2L 2Q2I2T2I2L2I2L2I2Q2I 2I2 L2Q2Q2I2B3L2I2L2EL2Q 2L2I2L3I2Q2L3EI2T3L2 L2J3I2L2I2L2I2L2L2L2 L2I2L2I2V4L2L2UL2L3G I2I2I4I2I2Q2While thus from theme to theme the Historian passed | A |
The words he uttered and the scene that lay | B |
Before our eyes awakened in my mind | C |
Vivid remembrance of those long past hours | D |
When in the hollow of some shadowy vale | E |
What time the splendour of the setting sun | F |
Lay beautiful on Snowdon's sovereign brow | G |
On Cader Idris or huge Penmanmaur | G |
A wandering Youth I listened with delight | H |
To pastoral melody or warlike air | G |
Drawn from the chords of the ancient British harp | I |
By some accomplished Master while he sate | J |
Amid the quiet of the green recess | K |
And there did inexhaustibly dispense | L |
An interchange of soft or solemn tunes | M |
Tender or blithe now as the varying mood | N |
Of his own spirit urged now as a voice | O |
From youth or maiden or some honoured chief | P |
Of his compatriot villagers that hung | Q |
Around him drinking in the impassioned notes | R |
Of the time hallowed minstrelsy required | S |
For their heart's ease or pleasure Strains of power | G |
Were they to seize and occupy the sense | L |
But to a higher mark than song can reach | T |
Rose this pure eloquence And when the stream | U |
Which overflowed the soul was passed away | B |
A consciousness remained that it had left | V |
Deposited upon the silent shore | G |
Of memory images and precious thoughts | W |
That shall not die and cannot be destroyed | X |
- | |
These grassy heaps lie amicably close | Y |
Said I like surges heaving in the wind | C |
Along the surface of a mountain pool | Z |
Whence comes it then that yonder we behold | A2 |
Five graves and only five that rise together | G |
Unsociably sequestered and encroaching | B2 |
On the smooth playground of the village school | Z |
- | |
The Vicar answered No disdainful pride | C2 |
In them who rest beneath nor any course | D2 |
Of strange or tragic accident hath helped | E2 |
To place those hillocks in that lonely guise | F2 |
Once more look forth and follow with your sight | H |
The length of road that from yon mountain's base | G2 |
Through bare enclosures stretches 'till its line | H2 |
Is lost within a little tuft of trees | I2 |
Then reappearing in a moment quits | J2 |
The cultured fields and up the heathy waste | K2 |
Mounts as you see in mazes serpentine | H2 |
Led towards an easy outlet of the vale | E |
That little shady spot that sylvan tuft | L2 |
By which the road is hidden also hides | M2 |
A cottage from our view though I discern | N2 |
Ye scarcely can amid its sheltering trees | I2 |
The smokeless chimney top | O2 |
All unembowered | L2 |
And naked stood that lowly Parsonage | P2 |
For such in truth it is and appertains | I2 |
To a small Chapel in the vale beyond | L2 |
When hither came its last Inhabitant | L2 |
Rough and forbidding were the choicest roads | I2 |
By which our northern wilds could then be crossed | L2 |
And into most of these secluded vales | I2 |
Was no access for wain heavy or light | L2 |
So at his dwelling place the Priest arrived | L2 |
With store of household goods in panniers slung | Q |
On sturdy horses graced with jingling bells | I2 |
And on the back of more ignoble beast | L2 |
That with like burthen of effects most prized | L2 |
Or easiest carried closed the motley train | Q2 |
Young was I then a schoolboy of eight years | I2 |
But still methinks I see them as they passed | L2 |
In order drawing toward their wished for home | R2 |
Rocked by the motion of a trusty ass | I2 |
Two ruddy children hung a well poised freight | L2 |
Each in his basket nodding drowsily | E |
Their bonnets I remember wreathed with flowers | I2 |
Which told it was the pleasant month of June | S2 |
And close behind the comely Matron rode | L2 |
A woman of soft speech and gracious smile | E |
And with a lady's mien From far they came | T2 |
Even from Northumbrian hills yet theirs had been | U2 |
A merry journey rich in pastime cheered | L2 |
By music prank and laughter stirring jest | L2 |
And freak put on and arch word dropped to swell | E |
The cloud of fancy and uncouth surmise | I2 |
That gathered round the slowly moving train | Q2 |
'Whence do they come and with what errand charged | L2 |
'Belong they to the fortune telling tribe | V2 |
'Who pitch their tents under the greenwood tree | G |
'Or Strollers are they furnished to enact | L2 |
'Fair Rosamond and the Children of the Wood | L2 |
'And by that whiskered tabby's aid set forth | W2 |
'The lucky venture of sage Whittington | F |
'When the next village hears the show announced | L2 |
'By blast of trumpet ' Plenteous was the growth | X2 |
Of such conjectures overheard or seen | Y2 |
On many a staring countenance portrayed | L2 |
Of boor or burgher as they marched along | Z2 |
And more than once their steadiness of face | I2 |
Was put to proof and exercise supplied | L2 |
To their inventive humour by stern looks | I2 |
And questions in authoritative tone | A3 |
From some staid guardian of the public peace | I2 |
Checking the sober steed on which he rode | L2 |
In his suspicious wisdom oftener still | E |
By notice indirect or blunt demand | L2 |
From traveller halting in his own despite | L2 |
A simple curiosity to ease | I2 |
Of which adventures that beguiled and cheered | L2 |
Their grave migration the good pair would tell | E |
With undiminished glee in hoary age | B3 |
- | |
A Priest he was by function but his course | I2 |
From his youth up and high as manhood's noon | S2 |
The hour of life to which he then was brought | L2 |
Had been irregular I might say wild | L2 |
By books unsteadied by his pastoral care | G |
Too little checked An active ardent mind | L2 |
A fancy pregnant with resource and scheme | U |
To cheat the sadness of a rainy day | L2 |
Hands apt for all ingenious arts and games | I2 |
A generous spirit and a body strong | Z2 |
To cope with stoutest champions of the bowl | E |
Had earned for him sure welcome and the rights | I2 |
Of a prized visitant in the jolly hall | E |
Of country 'squire or at the statelier board | L2 |
Of duke or earl from scenes of courtly pomp | C3 |
Withdrawn to while away the summer hours | I2 |
In condescension among rural guests | I2 |
- | |
With these high comrades he had revelled long | Z2 |
Frolicked industriously a simple Clerk | D3 |
By hopes of coming patronage beguiled | L2 |
Till the heart sickened So each loftier aim | T2 |
Abandoning and all his showy friends | I2 |
For a life's stay slender it was but sure | G |
He turned to this secluded chapelry | G |
That had been offered to his doubtful choice | I2 |
By an unthought of patron Bleak and bare | G |
They found the cottage their allotted home | R2 |
Naked without and rude within a spot | L2 |
With which the Cure not long had been endowed | L2 |
And far remote the chapel stood remote | L2 |
And from his Dwelling unapproachable | E |
Save through a gap high in the hills an opening | B2 |
Shadeless and shelterless by driving showers | I2 |
Frequented and beset with howling winds | I2 |
Yet cause was none whate'er regret might hang | E3 |
On his own mind to quarrel with the choice | I2 |
Or the necessity that fixed him here | G |
Apart from old temptations and constrained | L2 |
To punctual labour in his sacred charge | F3 |
See him a constant preacher to the poor | G |
And visiting though not with saintly zeal | E |
Yet when need was with no reluctant will | E |
The sick in body or distrest in mind | L2 |
And by a salutary change compelled | L2 |
To rise from timely sleep and meet the day | L2 |
With no engagement in his thoughts more proud | L2 |
Or splendid than his garden could afford | L2 |
His fields or mountains by the heath cock ranged | L2 |
Or the wild brooks from which he now returned | L2 |
Contented to partake the quiet meal | E |
Of his own board where sat his gentle Mate | L2 |
And three fair Children plentifully fed | L2 |
Though simply from their little household farm | G3 |
Nor wanted timely treat of fish or fowl | E |
By nature yielded to his practised hand | L2 |
To help the small but certain comings in | U2 |
Of that spare benefice Yet not the less | I2 |
Theirs was a hospitable board and theirs | I2 |
A charitable door | G |
So days and years | I2 |
Passed on the inside of that rugged house | I2 |
Was trimmed and brightened by the Matron's care | G |
And gradually enriched with things of price | I2 |
Which might be lacked for use or ornament | L2 |
What though no soft and costly sofa there | G |
Insidiously stretched out its lazy length | H3 |
And no vain mirror glittered upon the walls | I2 |
Yet were the windows of the low abode | L2 |
By shutters weather fended which at once | I2 |
Repelled the storm and deadened its loud roar | G |
There snow white curtains hung in decent folds | I2 |
Tough moss and long enduring mountain plants | I2 |
That creep along the ground with sinuous trail | E |
Were nicely braided and composed a work | D3 |
Like Indian mats that with appropriate grace | I2 |
Lay at the threshold and the inner doors | I2 |
And a fair carpet woven of homespun wool | E |
But tinctured daintily with florid hues | I2 |
For seemliness and warmth on festal days | I2 |
Covered the smooth blue slabs of mountain stone | A3 |
With which the parlour floor in simplest guise | I2 |
Of pastoral homesteads had been long inlaid | L2 |
- | |
Those pleasing works the Housewife's skill produced | L2 |
Meanwhile the unsedentary Master's hand | L2 |
Was busier with his task to rid to plant | L2 |
To rear for food for shelter and delight | L2 |
A thriving covert And when wishes formed | L2 |
In youth and sanctioned by the riper mind | L2 |
Restored me to my native valley here | G |
To end my days well pleased was I to see | G |
The once bare cottage on the mountainside | L2 |
Screened from assault of every bitter blast | L2 |
While the dark shadows of the summer leaves | I2 |
Danced in the breeze chequering its mossy roof | I3 |
Time which had thus afforded willing help | J3 |
To beautify with nature's fairest growths | I2 |
This rustic tenement had gently shed | L2 |
Upon its Master's frame a wintry grace | I2 |
The comeliness of unenfeebled age | B3 |
- | |
But how could I say gently for he still | E |
Retained a flashing eye a burning palm | K3 |
A stirring foot a head which beat at nights | I2 |
Upon its pillow with a thousand schemes | I2 |
Few likings had he dropped few pleasures lost | L2 |
Generous and charitable prompt to serve | L3 |
And still his harsher passions kept their hold | L2 |
Anger and indignation Still he loved | L2 |
The sound of titled names and talked in glee | G |
Of long past banquetings with high born friends | I2 |
Then from those lulling fits of vain delight | L2 |
Uproused by recollected injury railed | L2 |
At their false ways disdainfully and oft | L2 |
In bitterness and with a threatening eye | M3 |
Of fire incensed beneath its hoary brow | G |
Those transports with staid looks of pure good will | E |
And with soft smile his consort would reprove | L3 |
She far behind him in the race of years | I2 |
Yet keeping her first mildness was advanced | L2 |
Far nearer in the habit of her soul | E |
To that still region whither all are bound | L2 |
Him might we liken to the setting sun | F |
As seen not seldom on some gusty day | L2 |
Struggling and bold and shining from the west | L2 |
With an inconstant and unmellowed light | L2 |
She was a soft attendant cloud that hung | Q |
As if with wish to veil the restless orb | N3 |
From which it did itself imbibe a ray | L2 |
Of pleasing lustre But no more of this | I2 |
I better love to sprinkle on the sod | L2 |
That now divides the pair or rather say | L2 |
That still unites them praises like heaven's dew | L2 |
Without reserve descending upon both | X2 |
- | |
Our very first in eminence of years | I2 |
This old Man stood the patriarch of the Vale | E |
And to his unmolested mansion death | O3 |
Had never come through space of forty years | I2 |
Sparing both old and young in that abode | L2 |
Suddenly then they disappeared not twice | I2 |
Had summer scorched the fields not twice had fallen | F |
On those high peaks the first autumnal snow | P3 |
Before the greedy visiting was closed | L2 |
And the long privileged house left empty swept | L2 |
As by a plague Yet no rapacious plague | Q3 |
Had been among them all was gentle death | O3 |
One after one with intervals of peace | I2 |
A happy consummation an accord | L2 |
Sweet perfect to be wished for save that here | G |
Was something which to mortal sense might sound | L2 |
Like harshness that the old grey headed Sire | G |
The oldest he was taken last survived | L2 |
When the meek Partner of his age his Son | F |
His Daughter and that late and high prized gift | L2 |
His little smiling Grandchild were no more | G |
- | |
'All gone all vanished he deprived and bare | G |
'How will he face the remnant of his life | L3 |
'What will become of him ' we said and mused | L2 |
In sad conjectures 'Shall we meet him now | G |
'Haunting with rod and line the craggy brooks | I2 |
'Or shall we overhear him as we pass | I2 |
'Striving to entertain the lonely hours | I2 |
'With music ' for he had not ceased to touch | R3 |
The harp or viol which himself had framed | L2 |
For their sweet purposes with perfect skill | E |
'What titles will he keep will he remain | Q2 |
'Musician gardener builder mechanist | L2 |
'A planter and a rearer from the seed | L2 |
'A man of hope and forward looking mind | L2 |
'Even to the last ' Such was he unsubdued | L2 |
But Heaven was gracious yet a little while | E |
And this Survivor with his cheerful throng | Z2 |
Of open projects and his inward hoard | L2 |
Of unsunned griefs too many and too keen | Y2 |
Was overcome by unexpected sleep | S3 |
In one blest moment Like a shadow thrown | A3 |
Softly and lightly from a passing cloud | L2 |
Death fell upon him while reclined he lay | L2 |
For noontide solace on the summer grass | I2 |
The warm lap of his mother earth and so | P3 |
Their lenient term of separation past | L2 |
That family whose graves you there behold | L2 |
By yet a higher privilege once more | G |
Were gathered to each other | G |
Calm of mind | L2 |
And silence waited on these closing words | I2 |
Until the Wanderer whether moved by fear | G |
Lest in those passages of life were some | T3 |
That might have touched the sick heart of his Friend | L2 |
Too nearly or intent to reinforce | I2 |
His own firm spirit in degree deprest | L2 |
By tender sorrow for our mortal state | L2 |
Thus silence broke Behold a thoughtless Man | U3 |
From vice and premature decay preserved | L2 |
By useful habits to a fitter soil | E |
Transplanted ere too late The hermit lodged | L2 |
Amid the untrodden desert tells his beads | I2 |
With each repeating its allotted prayer | G |
And thus divides and thus relieves the time | V3 |
Smooth task with 'his' compared whose mind could string | B2 |
Not scantily bright minutes on the thread | L2 |
Of keen domestic anguish and beguile | E |
A solitude unchosen unprofessed | L2 |
Till gentlest death released him | W3 |
Far from us | I2 |
Be the desire too curiously to ask | X3 |
How much of this is but the blind result | L2 |
Of cordial spirits and vital temperament | L2 |
And what to higher powers is justly due | L2 |
But you Sir know that in a neighbouring vale | E |
A Priest abides before whose life such doubts | I2 |
Fall to the ground whose gifts of nature lie | M3 |
Retired from notice lost in attributes | I2 |
Of reason honourably effaced by debts | I2 |
Which her poor treasure house is content to owe | P3 |
And conquest over her dominion gained | L2 |
To which her frowardness must needs submit | L2 |
In this one Man is shown a temperance proof | L3 |
Against all trials industry severe | G |
And constant as the motion of the day | L2 |
Stern self denial round him spread with shade | L2 |
That might be deemed forbidding did not there | G |
All generous feelings flourish and rejoice | I2 |
Forbearance charity in deed and thought | L2 |
And resolution competent to take | Y3 |
Out of the bosom of simplicity | L2 |
All that her holy customs recommend | L2 |
And the best ages of the world prescribe | V2 |
Preaching administering in every work | D3 |
Of his sublime vocation in the walks | I2 |
Of worldly intercourse between man and man | U3 |
And in his humble dwelling he appears | I2 |
A labourer with moral virtue girt | L2 |
With spiritual graces like a glory crowned | L2 |
- | |
Doubt can be none the Pastor said for whom | Z3 |
This portraiture is sketched The great the good | L2 |
The well beloved the fortunate the wise | I2 |
These titles emperors and chiefs have borne | A4 |
Honour assumed or given and him the WONDERFUL | E |
Our simple shepherds speaking from the heart | L2 |
Deservedly have styled From his abode | L2 |
In a dependent chapelry that lies | I2 |
Behind yon hill a poor and rugged wild | L2 |
Which in his soul he lovingly embraced | L2 |
And having once espoused would never quit | L2 |
Into its graveyard will ere long be borne | A4 |
That lowly great good Man A simple stone | A3 |
May cover him and by its help perchance | I2 |
A century shall hear his name pronounced | L2 |
With images attendant on the sound | L2 |
Then shall the slowly gathering twilight close | I2 |
In utter night and of his course remain | Q2 |
No cognizable vestiges no more | G |
Than of this breath which shapes itself in words | I2 |
To speak of him and instantly dissolves | I2 |
- | |
The Pastor pressed by thoughts which round his theme | U |
Still lingered after a brief pause resumed | L2 |
Noise is there not enough in doleful war | G |
But that the heaven born poet must stand forth | W2 |
And lend the echoes of his sacred shell | E |
To multiply and aggravate the din | U2 |
Pangs are there not enough in hopeless love | L3 |
And in requited passion all too much | R3 |
Of turbulence anxiety and fear | G |
But that the minstrel of the rural shade | L2 |
Must tune his pipe insidiously to nurse | I2 |
The perturbation in the suffering breast | L2 |
And propagate its kind far as he may | L2 |
Ah who and with such rapture as befits | I2 |
The hallowed theme will rise and celebrate | L2 |
The good man's purposes and deeds retrace | I2 |
His struggles his discomfitures deplore | G |
His triumphs hail and glorify his end | L2 |
That virtue like the fumes and vapoury clouds | I2 |
Through fancy's heat redounding in the brain | Q2 |
And like the soft infections of the heart | L2 |
By charm of measured words may spread o'er field | L2 |
Hamlet and town and piety survive | L3 |
Upon the lips of men in hall or bower | G |
Not for reproof but high and warm delight | L2 |
And grave encouragement by song inspired | L2 |
Vain thought but wherefore murmur or repine | Q2 |
The memory of the just survives in heaven | Q2 |
And without sorrow will the ground receive | L3 |
That venerable clay Meanwhile the best | L2 |
Of what lies here confines us to degrees | I2 |
In excellence less difficult to reach | T |
And milder worth nor need we travel far | G |
From those to whom our last regards were paid | L2 |
For such example | E |
Almost at the root | L2 |
Of that tall pine the shadow of whose bare | G |
And slender stem while here I sit at eve | L3 |
Oft stretches towards me like a long straight path | B4 |
Traced faintly in the greensward there beneath | C4 |
A plain blue stone a gentle Dalesman lies | I2 |
From whom in early childhood was withdrawn | Q2 |
The precious gift of hearing He grew up | D4 |
From year to year in loneliness of soul | E |
And this deep mountain valley was to him | W3 |
Soundless with all its streams The bird of dawn | Q2 |
Did never rouse this Cottager from sleep | S3 |
With startling summons not for his delight | L2 |
The vernal cuckoo shouted not for him | W3 |
Murmured the labouring bee When stormy winds | I2 |
Were working the broad bosom of the lake | Y3 |
Into a thousand thousand sparkling waves | I2 |
Rocking the trees or driving cloud on cloud | L2 |
Along the sharp edge of yon lofty crags | I2 |
The agitated scene before his eye | M3 |
Was silent as a picture evermore | G |
Were all things silent wheresoe'er he moved | L2 |
Yet by the solace of his own pure thoughts | I2 |
Upheld he duteously pursued the round | L2 |
Of rural labours the steep mountain side | L2 |
Ascended with his staff and faithful dog | E4 |
The plough he guided and the scythe he swayed | L2 |
And the ripe corn before his sickle fell | E |
Among the jocund reapers For himself | L3 |
All watchful and industrious as he was | I2 |
He wrought not neither field nor flock he owned | L2 |
No wish for wealth had place within his mind | L2 |
Nor husband's love nor father's hope or care | G |
- | |
Though born a younger brother need was none | Q2 |
That from the floor of his paternal home | R2 |
He should depart to plant himself anew | Q2 |
And when mature in manhood he beheld | L2 |
His parents laid in earth no loss ensued | L2 |
Of rights to him but he remained well pleased | L2 |
By the pure bond of independent love | L3 |
An inmate of a second family | L2 |
The fellow labourer and friend of him | W3 |
To whom the small inheritance had fallen | Q2 |
Nor deem that his mild presence was a weight | L2 |
That pressed upon his brother's house for books | I2 |
Were ready comrades whom he could not tire | G |
Of whose society the blameless Man | Q2 |
Was never satiate Their familiar voice | I2 |
Even to old age with unabated charm | G3 |
Beguiled his leisure hours refreshed his thoughts | I2 |
Beyond its natural elevation raised | L2 |
His introverted spirit and bestowed | L2 |
Upon his life an outward dignity | L2 |
Which all acknowledged The dark winter night | L2 |
The stormy day each had its own resource | I2 |
Song of the muses sage historic tale | E |
Science severe or word of holy Writ | L2 |
Announcing immortality and joy | F4 |
To the assembled spirits of just men | Q2 |
Made perfect and from injury secure | G |
Thus soothed at home thus busy in the field | L2 |
To no perverse suspicion he gave way | L2 |
No languor peevishness nor vain complaint | L2 |
And they who were about him did not fail | E |
In reverence or in courtesy they prized | L2 |
His gentle manners and his peaceful smiles | I2 |
The gleams of his slow varying countenance | I2 |
Were met with answering sympathy and love | L3 |
- | |
At length when sixty years and five were told | L2 |
A slow disease insensibly consumed | L2 |
The powers of nature and a few short steps | I2 |
Of friends and kindred bore him from his home | R2 |
Yon cottage shaded by the woody crags | I2 |
To the profounder stillness of the grave | L3 |
Nor was his funeral denied the grace | I2 |
Of many tears virtuous and thoughtful grief | L3 |
Heart sorrow rendered sweet by gratitude | L2 |
And now that monumental stone preserves | I2 |
His name and unambitiously relates | I2 |
How long and by what kindly outward aids | I2 |
And in what pure contentedness of mind | L2 |
The sad privation was by him endured | L2 |
And yon tall pine tree whose composing sound | L2 |
Was wasted on the good Man's living ear | G |
Hath now its own peculiar sanctity | L2 |
And at the touch of every wandering breeze | I2 |
Murmurs not idly o'er his peaceful grave | L3 |
- | |
Soul cheering Light most bountiful of things | I2 |
Guide of our way mysterious comforter | G |
Whose sacred influence spread through earth and heaven | Q2 |
We all too thanklessly participate | L2 |
Thy gifts were utterly withheld from him | W3 |
Whose place of rest is near yon ivied porch | G4 |
Yet of the wild brooks ask if he complained | L2 |
Ask of the channelled rivers if they held | L2 |
A safer easier more determined course | I2 |
What terror doth it strike into the mind | L2 |
To think of one blind and alone advancing | B2 |
Straight toward some precipice's airy brink | H4 |
But timely warned 'He' would have stayed his steps | I2 |
Protected say enlightened by his ear | G |
And on the very edge of vacancy | L2 |
Not more endangered than a man whose eye | M3 |
Beholds the gulf beneath No floweret blooms | I2 |
Throughout the lofty range of these rough hills | I2 |
Nor in the woods that could from him conceal | E |
Its birth place none whose figure did not live | L3 |
Upon his touch The bowels of the earth | I4 |
Enriched with knowledge his industrious mind | L2 |
The ocean paid him tribute from the stores | I2 |
Lodged in her bosom and by science led | L2 |
His genius mounted to the plains of heaven | Q2 |
Methinks I see him how his eye balls rolled | L2 |
Beneath his ample brow in darkness paired | L2 |
But each instinct with spirit and the frame | T2 |
Of the whole countenance alive with thought | L2 |
Fancy and understanding while the voice | I2 |
Discoursed of natural or moral truth | J4 |
With eloquence and such authentic power | G |
That in his presence humbler knowledge stood | L2 |
Abashed and tender pity overawed | L2 |
- | |
A noble and to unreflecting minds | I2 |
A marvellous spectacle the Wanderer said | L2 |
Beings like these present But proof abounds | I2 |
Upon the earth that faculties which seem | U |
Extinguished do not 'therefore' cease to be | L2 |
And to the mind among her powers of sense | I2 |
This transfer is permitted not alone | Q2 |
That the bereft their recompense may win | Q2 |
But for remoter purposes of love | L3 |
And charity nor last nor least for this | I2 |
That to the imagination may be given | Q2 |
A type and shadow of an awful truth | J4 |
How likewise under sufferance divine | Q2 |
Darkness is banished from the realms of death | O3 |
By man's imperishable spirit quelled | L2 |
Unto the men who see not as we see | L2 |
Futurity was thought in ancient times | I2 |
To be laid open and they prophesied | L2 |
And know we not that from the blind have flowed | L2 |
The highest holiest raptures of the lyre | G |
And wisdom married to immortal verse | I2 |
- | |
Among the humbler Worthies at our feet | L2 |
Lying insensible to human praise | I2 |
Love or regret 'whose' lineaments would next | L2 |
Have been portrayed I guess not but it chanced | L2 |
That near the quiet churchyard where we sate | L2 |
A team of horses with a ponderous freight | L2 |
Pressing behind adown a rugged slope | K4 |
Whose sharp descent confounded their array | L2 |
Came at that moment ringing noisily | L2 |
- | |
Here said the Pastor do we muse and mourn | Q2 |
The waste of death and lo the giant oak | L4 |
Stretched on his bier that massy timber wain | Q2 |
Nor fail to note the Man who guides the team | U |
- | |
He was a peasant of the lowest class | I2 |
Grey locks profusely round his temples hung | Q |
In clustering curls like ivy which the bite | L2 |
Of winter cannot thin the fresh air lodged | L2 |
Within his cheek as light within a cloud | L2 |
And he returned our greeting with a smile | E |
When he had passed the Solitary spake | Y3 |
A Man he seems of cheerful yesterdays | I2 |
And confident to morrows with a face | I2 |
Not worldly minded for it bears too much | R3 |
Of Nature's impress gaiety and health | M4 |
Freedom and hope but keen withal and shrewd | L2 |
His gestures note and hark his tones of voice | I2 |
Are all vivacious as his mien and looks | I2 |
- | |
The Pastor answered You have read him well | E |
Year after year is added to his store | G |
With 'silent' increase summers winters past | L2 |
Past or to come yea boldly might I say | L2 |
Ten summers and ten winters of a space | I2 |
That lies beyond life's ordinary bounds | I2 |
Upon his sprightly vigour cannot fix | I2 |
The obligation of an anxious mind | L2 |
A pride in having or a fear to lose | I2 |
Possessed like outskirts of some large domain | Q2 |
By any one more thought of than by him | W3 |
Who holds the land in fee its careless lord | L2 |
Yet is the creature rational endowed | L2 |
With foresight hears too every sabbath day | L2 |
The christian promise with attentive ear | G |
Nor will I trust the Majesty of Heaven | Q2 |
Reject the incense offered up by him | W3 |
Though of the kind which beasts and birds present | L2 |
In grove or pasture cheerfulness of soul | E |
From trepidation and repining free | L2 |
How many scrupulous worshippers fall down | Q2 |
Upon their knees and daily homage pay | L2 |
Less worthy less religious even than his | I2 |
- | |
This qualified respect the old Man's due | L2 |
Is paid without reluctance but in truth | J4 |
Said the good Vicar with a fond half smile | E |
I feel at times a motion of despite | L2 |
Towards one whose bold contrivances and skill | E |
As you have seen bear such conspicuous part | L2 |
In works of havoc taking from these vales | I2 |
One after one their proudest ornaments | I2 |
Full oft his doings leave me to deplore | G |
Tall ash tree sown by winds by vapours nursed | L2 |
In the dry crannies of the pendent rocks | I2 |
Light birch aloft upon the horizon's edge | N4 |
A veil of glory for the ascending moon | Q2 |
And oak whose roots by noontide dew were damped | L2 |
And on whose forehead inaccessible | E |
The raven lodged in safety Many a ship | O4 |
Launched into Morecamb bay to 'him' hath owed | L2 |
Her strong knee timbers and the mast that bears | I2 |
The loftiest of her pendants He from park | P4 |
Or forest fetched the enormous axle tree | L2 |
That whirls how slow itself ten thousand spindles | I2 |
And the vast engine labouring in the mine | Q2 |
Content with meaner prowess must have lacked | L2 |
The trunk and body of its marvellous strength | H3 |
If his undaunted enterprise had failed | L2 |
Among the mountain coves | I2 |
Yon household fir | G |
A guardian planted to fence off the blast | L2 |
But towering high the roof above as if | L3 |
Its humble destination were forgot | L2 |
That sycamore which annually holds | I2 |
Within its shade as in a stately tent | L2 |
On all sides open to the fanning breeze | I2 |
A grave assemblage seated while they shear | G |
The fleece encumbered flock the JOYFUL ELM | Q4 |
Around whose trunk the maidens dance in May | L2 |
And the LORD'S OAK would plead their several rights | I2 |
In vain if he were master of their fate | L2 |
His sentence to the axe would doom them all | E |
But green in age and lusty as he is | I2 |
And promising to keep his hold on earth | I4 |
Less as might seem in rivalship with men | Q2 |
Than with the forest's more enduring growth | X2 |
His own appointed hour will come at last | L2 |
And like the haughty Spoilers of the world | L2 |
This keen Destroyer in his turn must fall | E |
- | |
Now from the living pass we once again | Q2 |
From Age the Priest continued turn your thoughts | I2 |
From Age that often unlamented drops | I2 |
And mark that daisied hillock three spans long | Z2 |
Seven lusty Sons sate daily round the board | L2 |
Of Gold rill side and when the hope had ceased | L2 |
Of other progeny a Daughter then | Q2 |
Was given the crowning bounty of the whole | E |
And so acknowledged with a tremulous joy | F4 |
Felt to the centre of that heavenly calm | K3 |
With which by nature every mother's soul | E |
Is stricken in the moment when her throes | I2 |
Are ended and her ears have heard the cry | M3 |
Which tells her that a living child is born | Q2 |
And she lies conscious in a blissful rest | L2 |
That the dread storm is weathered by them both | X2 |
- | |
The Father him at this unlooked for gift | L2 |
A bolder transport seizes From the side | L2 |
Of his bright hearth and from his open door | G |
Day after day the gladness is diffused | L2 |
To all that come almost to all that pass | I2 |
Invited summoned to partake the cheer | G |
Spread on the never empty board and drink | H4 |
Health and good wishes to his new born girl | E |
From cups replenished by his joyous hand | L2 |
Those seven fair brothers variously were moved | L2 |
Each by the thoughts best suited to his years | I2 |
But most of all and with most thankful mind | L2 |
The hoary grandsire felt himself enriched | L2 |
A happiness that ebbed not but remained | L2 |
To fill the total measure of his soul | E |
From the low tenement his own abode | L2 |
Whither as to a little private cell | E |
He had withdrawn from bustle care and noise | I2 |
To spend the sabbath of old age in peace | I2 |
Once every day he duteously repaired | L2 |
To rock the cradle of the slumbering babe | R4 |
For in that female infant's name he heard | L2 |
The silent name of his departed wife | L3 |
Heart stirring music hourly heard that name | T2 |
Full blest he was 'Another Margaret Green ' | - |
Oft did he say 'was come to Gold rill side ' | - |
- | |
Oh pang unthought of as the precious boon | Q2 |
Itself had been unlooked for oh dire stroke | L4 |
Of desolating anguish for them all | E |
Just as the Child could totter on the floor | G |
And by some friendly finger's help up stayed | L2 |
Range round the garden walk while she perchance | I2 |
Was catching at some novelty of spring | B2 |
Ground flower or glossy insect from its cell | E |
Drawn by the sunshine at that hopeful season | Q2 |
The winds of March smiting insidiously | E |
Raised in the tender passage of the throat | L2 |
Viewless obstruction whence all unforewarned | L2 |
The household lost their pride and soul's delight | L2 |
But time hath power to soften all regrets | I2 |
And prayer and thought can bring to worst distress | I2 |
Due resignation Therefore though some tears | I2 |
Fail not to spring from either Parent's eye | M3 |
Oft as they hear of sorrow like their own | Q2 |
Yet this departed Little one too long | Z2 |
The innocent troubler of their quiet sleeps | I2 |
In what may now be called a peaceful bed | L2 |
- | |
On a bright day so calm and bright it seemed | L2 |
To us with our sad spirits heavenly fair | G |
These mountains echoed to an unknown sound | L2 |
A volley thrice repeated o'er the Corse | I2 |
Let down into the hollow of that grave | L3 |
Whose shelving sides are red with naked mould | L2 |
Ye rains of April duly wet this earth | I4 |
Spare burning sun of midsummer these sods | I2 |
That they may knit together and therewith | I4 |
Our thoughts unite in kindred quietness | I2 |
Nor so the Valley shall forget her loss | I2 |
Dear Youth by young and old alike beloved | L2 |
To me as precious as my own Green herbs | I2 |
May creep I wish that they would softly creep | S3 |
Over thy last abode and we may pass | I2 |
Reminded less imperiously of thee | I4 |
The ridge itself may sink into the breast | L2 |
Of earth the great abyss and be no more | G |
Yet shall not thy remembrance leave our hearts | I2 |
Thy image disappear | G |
The Mountain ash | S4 |
No eye can overlook when 'mid a grove | L3 |
Of yet unfaded trees she lifts her head | L2 |
Decked with autumnal berries that outshine | Q2 |
Spring's richest blossoms and ye may have marked | L2 |
By a brook side or solitary tarn | Q2 |
How she her station doth adorn the pool | E |
Glows at her feet and all the gloomy rocks | I2 |
Are brightened round her In his native vale | E |
Such and so glorious did this Youth appear | G |
A sight that kindled pleasure in all hearts | I2 |
By his ingenuous beauty by the gleam | U |
Of his fair eyes by his capacious brow | G |
By all the graces with which nature's hand | L2 |
Had lavishly arrayed him As old bards | I2 |
Tell in their idle songs of wandering gods | I2 |
Pan or Apollo veiled in human form | T4 |
Yet like the sweet breathed violet of the shade | L2 |
Discovered in their own despite to sense | I2 |
Of mortals if such fables without blame | T2 |
May find chance mention on this sacred ground | L2 |
So through a simple rustic garb's disguise | I2 |
And through the impediment of rural cares | I2 |
In him revealed a scholar's genius shone | Q2 |
And so not wholly hidden from men's sight | L2 |
In him the spirit of a hero walked | L2 |
Our unpretending valley How the quoit | L2 |
Whizzed from the Stripling's arm If touched by him | W3 |
The inglorious foot ball mounted to the pitch | U4 |
Of the lark's flight or shaped a rainbow curve | L3 |
Aloft in prospect of the shouting field | L2 |
The indefatigable fox had learned | L2 |
To dread his perseverance in the chase | I2 |
With admiration would he lift his eyes | I2 |
To the wide ruling eagle and his hand | L2 |
Was loth to assault the majesty he loved | L2 |
Else had the strongest fastnesses proved weak | V4 |
To guard the royal brood The sailing glead | L2 |
The wheeling swallow and the darting snipe | W4 |
The sportive sea gull dancing with the waves | I2 |
And cautious water fowl from distant climes | I2 |
Fixed at their seat the centre of the Mere | G |
Were subject to young Oswald's steady aim | T2 |
And lived by his forbearance | I2 |
From the coast | L2 |
Of France a boastful Tyrant hurled his threats | I2 |
Our Country marked the preparation vast | L2 |
Of hostile forces and she called with voice | I2 |
That filled her plains that reached her utmost shores | I2 |
And in remotest vales was heard to arms | I2 |
Then for the first time here you might have seen | Q2 |
The shepherd's grey to martial scarlet changed | L2 |
That flashed uncouthly through the woods and fields | I2 |
Ten hardy Striplings all in bright attire | G |
And graced with shining weapons weekly marched | L2 |
From this lone valley to a central spot | L2 |
Where in assemblage with the flower and choice | I2 |
Of the surrounding district they might learn | Q2 |
The rudiments of war ten hardy strong | Z2 |
And valiant but young Oswald like a chief | L3 |
And yet a modest comrade led them forth | I4 |
From their shy solitude to face the world | L2 |
With a gay confidence and seemly pride | L2 |
Measuring the soil beneath their happy feet | L2 |
Like Youths released from labour and yet bound | L2 |
To most laborious service though to them | X4 |
A festival of unencumbered ease | I2 |
The inner spirit keeping holiday | L2 |
Like vernal ground to sabbath sunshine left | L2 |
- | |
Oft have I marked him at some leisure hour | G |
Stretched on the grass or seated in the shade | L2 |
Among his fellows while an ample map | Y4 |
Before their eyes lay carefully outspread | L2 |
From which the gallant teacher would discourse | I2 |
Now pointing this way and now that 'Here flows ' | - |
Thus would he say 'the Rhine that famous stream | U |
'Eastward the Danube toward this inland sea | I2 |
'A mightier river winds from realm to realm | Q4 |
'And like a serpent shows his glittering back | Z4 |
'Bespotted with innumerable isles | I2 |
'Here reigns the Russian there the Turk observe | L3 |
'His capital city ' Thence along a tract | L2 |
Of livelier interest to his hopes and fears | I2 |
His finger moved distinguishing the spots | I2 |
Where wide spread conflict then most fiercely raged | L2 |
Nor left unstigmatized those fatal fields | I2 |
On which the sons of mighty Germany | I2 |
Were taught a base submission 'Here behold | L2 |
'A nobler race the Switzers and their land | L2 |
'Vales deeper far than these of ours huge woods | I2 |
'And mountains white with everlasting snow ' | - |
And surely he that spake with kindling brow | G |
Was a true patriot hopeful as the best | L2 |
Of that young peasantry who in our days | I2 |
Have fought and perished for Helvetia's rights | I2 |
Ah not in vain or those who in old time | V3 |
For work of happier issue to the side | L2 |
Of Tell came trooping from a thousand huts | I2 |
When he had risen alone No braver Youth | I4 |
Descended from Judean heights to march | |
With righteous Joshua nor appeared in arms | I2 |
When grove was felled and altar was cast down | Q2 |
And Gideon blew the trumpet soul inflamed | L2 |
And strong in hatred of idolatry | I2 |
- | |
The Pastor even as if by these last words | I2 |
Raised from his seat within the chosen shade | L2 |
Moved toward the grave instinctively his steps | I2 |
We followed and my voice with joy exclaimed | L2 |
Power to the Oppressors of the world is given | Q2 |
A might of which they dream not Oh the curse | I2 |
To be the awakener of divinest thoughts | I2 |
Father and founder of exalted deeds | I2 |
And to whole nations bound in servile straits | I2 |
The liberal donor of capacities | I2 |
More than heroic this to be nor yet | L2 |
Have sense of one connatural wish nor yet | L2 |
Deserve the least return of human thanks | I2 |
Winning no recompense but deadly hate | L2 |
With pity mixed astonishment with scorn | Q2 |
- | |
When this involuntary strain had ceased | L2 |
The Pastor said So Providence is served | L2 |
The forked weapon of the skies can send | L2 |
Illumination into deep dark holds | I2 |
Which the mild sunbeam hath not power to pierce | I2 |
Ye Thrones that have defied remorse and cast | L2 |
Pity away soon shall ye quake with 'fear' | I2 |
For not unconscious of the mighty debt | L2 |
Which to outrageous wrong the sufferer owes | I2 |
Europe through all her habitable bounds | I2 |
Is thirsting for 'their' overthrow who yet | L2 |
Survive as pagan temples stood of yore | I2 |
By horror of their impious rites preserved | L2 |
Are still permitted to extend their pride | L2 |
Like cedars on the top of Lebanon | Q2 |
Darkening the sun | Q2 |
But less impatient thoughts | I2 |
And love 'all hoping and expecting all ' | - |
This hallowed grave demands where rests in peace | I2 |
A humble champion of the better cause | I2 |
A Peasant youth so call him for he asked | L2 |
No higher name in whom our country showed | L2 |
As in a favourite son most beautiful | E |
In spite of vice and misery and disease | I2 |
Spread with the spreading of her wealthy arts | I2 |
England the ancient and the free appeared | L2 |
In him to stand before my swimming eyes | I2 |
Unconquerably virtuous and secure | I2 |
No more of this lest I offend his dust | L2 |
Short was his life and a brief tale remains | I2 |
- | |
One day a summer's day of annual pomp | C3 |
And solemn chase from morn to sultry noon | Q2 |
His steps had followed fleetest of the fleet | L2 |
The red deer driven along its native heights | I2 |
With cry of hound and horn and from that toil | E |
Returned with sinews weakened and relaxed | L2 |
This generous Youth too negligent of self | L3 |
Plunged 'mid a gay and busy throng convened | L2 |
To wash the fleeces of his Father's flock | |
Into the chilling flood Convulsions dire | I2 |
Seized him that self same night and through the space | I2 |
Of twelve ensuing days his frame was wrenched | L2 |
Till nature rested from her work in death | I4 |
To him thus snatched away his comrades paid | L2 |
A soldier's honours At his funeral hour | I2 |
Bright was the sun the sky a cloudless blue | E |
A golden lustre slept upon the hills | I2 |
And if by chance a stranger wandering there | I2 |
From some commanding eminence had looked | L2 |
Down on this spot well pleased would he have seen | Q2 |
A glittering spectacle but every face | I2 |
Was pallid seldom hath that eye been moist | L2 |
With tears that wept not then nor were the few | E |
Who from their dwellings came not forth to join | Q2 |
In this sad service less disturbed than we | I2 |
They started at the tributary peal | E |
Of instantaneous thunder which announced | L2 |
Through the still air the closing of the Grave | L3 |
And distant mountains echoed with a sound | L2 |
Of lamentation never heard before | I2 |
- | |
The Pastor ceased My venerable Friend | L2 |
Victoriously upraised his clear bright eye | M3 |
And when that eulogy was ended stood | L2 |
Enrapt as if his inward sense perceived | L2 |
The prolongation of some still response | I2 |
Sent by the ancient Soul of this wide land | L2 |
The Spirit of its mountains and its seas | I2 |
Its cities temples fields its awful power | I2 |
Its rights and virtues by that Deity | I2 |
Descending and supporting his pure heart | L2 |
With patriotic confidence and joy | F4 |
And at the last of those memorial words | I2 |
The pining Solitary turned aside | L2 |
Whether through manly instinct to conceal | E |
Tender emotions spreading from the heart | L2 |
To his worn cheek or with uneasy shame | T2 |
For those cold humours of habitual spleen | Q2 |
That fondly seeking in dispraise of man | Q2 |
Solace and self excuse had sometimes urged | L2 |
To self abuse a not ineloquent tongue | Q |
Right toward the sacred Edifice his steps | I2 |
Had been directed and we saw him now | G |
Intent upon a monumental stone | Q2 |
Whose uncouth form was grafted on the wall | E |
Or rather seemed to have grown into the side | L2 |
Of the rude pile as oft times trunks of trees | I2 |
Where nature works in wild and craggy spots | I2 |
Are seen incorporate with the living rock | |
To endure for aye The Vicar taking note | L2 |
Of his employment with a courteous smile | E |
Exclaimed | L2 |
The sagest Antiquarian's eye | M3 |
That task would foil then letting fall his voice | I2 |
While he advanced thus spake Tradition tells | I2 |
That in Eliza's golden days a Knight | L2 |
Came on a war horse sumptuously attired | L2 |
And fixed his home in this sequestered vale | E |
'Tis left untold if here he first drew breath | I4 |
Or as a stranger reached this deep recess | I2 |
Unknowing and unknown A pleasing thought | L2 |
I sometimes entertain that haply bound | L2 |
To Scotland's court in service of his Queen | Q2 |
Or sent on mission to some northern Chief | L3 |
Of England's realm this vale he might have seen | Q2 |
With transient observation and thence caught | L2 |
An image fair which brightening in his soul | E |
When joy of war and pride of chivalry | I2 |
Languished beneath accumulated years | I2 |
Had power to draw him from the world resolved | L2 |
To make that paradise his chosen home | R2 |
To which his peaceful fancy oft had turned | L2 |
- | |
Vague thoughts are these but if belief may rest | L2 |
Upon unwritten story fondly traced | L2 |
From sire to son in this obscure retreat | L2 |
The Knight arrived with spear and shield and borne | Q2 |
Upon a Charger gorgeously bedecked | L2 |
With broidered housings And the lofty Steed | L2 |
His sole companion and his faithful friend | L2 |
Whom he in gratitude let loose to range | |
In fertile pastures was beheld with eyes | I2 |
Of admiration and delightful awe | |
By those untravelled Dalesmen With less pride | L2 |
Yet free from touch of envious discontent | L2 |
They saw a mansion at his bidding rise | I2 |
Like a bright star amid the lowly band | L2 |
Of their rude homesteads Here the Warrior dwelt | L2 |
And in that mansion children of his own | Q2 |
Or kindred gathered round him As a tree | I2 |
That falls and disappears the house is gone | Q2 |
And through improvidence or want of love | L3 |
For ancient worth and honourable things | I2 |
The spear and shield are vanished which the Knight | L2 |
Hung in his rustic hall One ivied arch | |
Myself have seen a gateway last remains | I2 |
Of that foundation in domestic care | I2 |
Raised by his hands And now no trace is left | L2 |
Of the mild hearted Champion save this stone | Q2 |
Faithless memorial and his family name | T2 |
Borne by yon clustering cottages that sprang | E3 |
From out the ruins of his stately lodge | |
These and the name and title at full length | I4 |
'Sir Alfred Irthing' with appropriate words | I2 |
Accompanied still extant in a wreath | I4 |
Or posy girding round the several fronts | I2 |
Of three clear sounding and harmonious bells | I2 |
That in the steeple hang his pious gift | L2 |
- | |
So fails so languishes grows dim and dies | I2 |
The grey haired Wanderer pensively exclaimed | L2 |
All that this world is proud of From their spheres | I2 |
The stars of human glory are cast down | Q2 |
Perish the roses and the flowers of kings | I2 |
Princes and emperors and the crowns and palms | I2 |
Of all the mighty withered and consumed | L2 |
Nor is power given to lowliest innocence | I2 |
Long to protect her own The man himself | L3 |
Departs and soon is spent the line of those | I2 |
Who in the bodily image in the mind | L2 |
In heart or soul in station or pursuit | L2 |
Did most resemble him Degrees and ranks | I2 |
Fraternities and orders heaping high | M3 |
New wealth upon the burthen of the old | L2 |
And placing trust in privilege confirmed | L2 |
And re confirmed are scoffed at with a smile | E |
Of greedy foretaste from the secret stand | L2 |
Of Desolation aimed to slow decline | Q2 |
These yield and these to sudden overthrow | I2 |
Their virtue service happiness and state | L2 |
Expire and nature's pleasant robe of green | Q2 |
Humanity's appointed shroud enwraps | I2 |
Their monuments and their memory The vast Frame | T2 |
Of social nature changes evermore | I2 |
Her organs and her members with decay | L2 |
Restless and restless generation powers | I2 |
And functions dying and produced at need | L2 |
And by this law the mighty whole subsists | I2 |
With an ascent and progress in the main | Q2 |
Yet oh how disproportioned to the hopes | I2 |
And expectations of self flattering minds | I2 |
- | |
The courteous Knight whose bones are here interred | L2 |
Lived in an age conspicuous as our own | Q2 |
For strife and ferment in the minds of men | Q2 |
Whence alteration in the forms of things | I2 |
Various and vast A memorable age | B3 |
Which did to him assign a pensive lot | L2 |
To linger 'mid the last of those bright clouds | I2 |
That on the steady breeze of honour sailed | L2 |
In long procession calm and beautiful | E |
He who had seen his own bright order fade | L2 |
And its devotion gradually decline | Q2 |
While war relinquishing the lance and shield | L2 |
Her temper changed and bowed to other laws | I2 |
Had also witnessed in his morn of life | L3 |
That violent commotion which o'erthrew | I2 |
In town and city and sequestered glen | Q2 |
Altar and cross and church of solemn roof | L3 |
And old religious house pile after pile | E |
And shook their tenants out into the fields | I2 |
Like wild beasts without home Their hour was come | T3 |
But why no softening thought of gratitude | L2 |
No just remembrance scruple or wise doubt | L2 |
Benevolence is mild nor borrows help | J3 |
Save at worst need from bold impetuous force | I2 |
Fitliest allied to anger and revenge | |
But Human kind rejoices in the might | L2 |
Of mutability and airy hopes | I2 |
Dancing around her hinder and disturb | |
Those meditations of the soul that feed | L2 |
The retrospective virtues Festive songs | I2 |
Break from the maddened nations at the sight | L2 |
Of sudden overthrow and cold neglect | L2 |
Is the sure consequence of slow decay | L2 |
- | |
Even said the Wanderer as that courteous Knight | L2 |
Bound by his vow to labour for redress | I2 |
Of all who suffer wrong and to enact | L2 |
By sword and lance the law of gentleness | I2 |
If I may venture of myself to speak | V4 |
Trusting that not incongruously I blend | L2 |
Low things with lofty I too shall be doomed | L2 |
To outlive the kindly use and fair esteem | U |
Of the poor calling which my youth embraced | L2 |
With no unworthy prospect But enough | L3 |
Thoughts crowd upon me and 'twere seemlier now | G |
To stop and yield our gracious Teacher thanks | I2 |
For the pathetic records which his voice | I2 |
Hath here delivered words of heartfelt truth | I4 |
Tending to patience when affliction strikes | I2 |
To hope and love to confident repose | I2 |
In God and reverence for the dust of Man | Q2 |
William Wordsworth
(1)
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