More thou deserv'st; but this man gives to man, Yet they to whom thy virtues made thee dear We grieved for thee, and wished thy end were past; And willingly have laid thee here at last : For thou hadst lived till every thing that cheers Old household thoughts, in which thou hadst thy share; For love, that comes wherever life and sense 1805. XIX. FIDELITY. [THE young man whose death gave occasion to this poem was named Charles Gough, and had come early in the spring to Paterdale for the sake of angling. While attempting to cross over Helvellyn to Grasmere he slipped from a steep part of the rock where the ice was not thawed, and perished. His body was discovered as is told in this poem. Walter Scott heard of the accident, and both he and I, without either of us knowing that the other had taken up the subject, each wrote a poem in admiration of the dog's fidelity. His contains a most beautiful stanza : "How long didst thou think that his silence was slumber, When the wind waved his garment how oft didst thou start." I will add that the sentiment in the last four lines of the last stanza in my verses was uttered by a shepherd with such exactness, that a traveller, who afterwards reported his account in print, was induced to question the man whether he had read them, which he had not.] A BARKING Sound the Shepherd hears, He halts and searches with his eyes Among the scattered rocks: And now at distance can discern The Dog is not of mountain breed ; Nor is there any one in sight Nor shout, nor whistle strikes his ear; It was a cove, a huge recess, That keeps, till June, December's snow; A silent tarn * below! Far in the bosom of Helvellyn, From trace of human foot or hand. There sometimes doth a leaping fish Thither the rainbow comes the cloud- Not free from boding thoughts, a while Nor far had gone before he found * Tarn is a small Mere or Lake, mostly high up in the mountains. From those abrupt and perilous rocks He instantly recalled the name, And who he was, and whence he came; On which the Traveller passed this way. But hear a wonder, for whose sake A lasting monument of words This wonder merits well. The Dog, which still was hovering nigh, Repeating the same timid cry, This Dog, had been through three months' space A dweller in that savage place. Yes, proof was plain that, since the day When this ill-fated Traveller died, The Dog had watched about the spot, Or by his master's side: How nourished here through such long time 1805. 231 XX. ODE TO DUTY. [THIS Ode is on the model of Gray's Ode to Adversity, which is copied from Horace's Ode to Fortune. Many and many a time have I been twitted by my wife and sister for having forgotten this dedication of myself to the stern law-giver. Transgressor indeed I have been, from hour to hour, from day to day: I would fain hope however, not more flagrantly or in a worse way than most of my tuneful brethren. But these last words are in a wrong strain. We should be rigorous to ourselves and forbearing, if not indulgent, to others, and, if we make comparisons at all, it ought to be with those who have morally excelled us.] 'Jam non consilio bonus, sed more eò perductus, ut non tantum rectè facere possim, sed nisi rectè facere non possim.' STERN Daughter of the Voice of God! O Duty! if that name thou love When empty terrors overawe; From vain temptations dost set free; And calm'st the weary strife of frail humanity! There are who ask not if thine eye Be on them; who, in love and truth, Upon the genial sense of youth: Glad Hearts! without reproach or blot; Who do thy work, and know it not: Oh! if through confidence misplaced [cast. They fail, thy saving arms, dread Power! around them |