In rustling conflict through the skies, 5
I heard, I saw the flashes drive,

And yet they are upon my eyes,
And yet I am alive;

Before I see another day,

Oh let my body die away!

II.

My fire is dead: it knew no pain; Yet is it dead, and I remain :

All stiff with ice the ashes lie;

And they are dead, and I will die.

When I was well, I wished to live,

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15

The way my friends their course did bend,
I should not feel the pain of dying,
Could I with thee a message send;
Too soon, my friends, ye went away;
For I had many things to say.

VI.

I'll follow you across the snow;
Ye travel heavily and slow;
In spite of all my weary pain
I'll look upon your tents again.
-My fire is dead, and snowy white
The water which beside it stood:
The wolf has come to me to-night,

But they to me no joy can give,

No pleasure now, and no desire. Then here contented will I lie! Alone, I cannot fear to die.

III.

Alas! ye might have dragged me on
Another day, a single one!
Too soon I yielded to despair;
Why did ye listen to my prayer?
When ye were gone my limbs
stronger;

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55

60

My poor forsaken Child, if I

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And oh, how grievously I rue,
That, afterwards, a little longer,
My friends, I did not follow you!
For strong and without pain I lay,
Dear friends, when ye were gone away. 30

And my last thought would happy be;
But thou, dear Babe, art far away,
Nor shall I see another day.

XXII.

THE LAST OF THE FLOCK. [Composed 1798.-Published 1798.]

I.

IN distant countries have I been,
And yet I have not often seen
A healthy man, a man full grown,
Weep in the public roads, alone.
But such a one, on English ground,
And in the broad highway, I met;
His cheeks with tears were wet:
Along the broad highway he came,
Sturdy he seemed, though he was sad;
And in his arms a Lamb he had.

11.

"Six Children, Sir! had I to feed;
Hard labour in a time of need!
My pride was tamed, and in our grief
I of the Parish asked relief.
They said, I was a wealthy man;
My sheep upon the uplands fed,
And it was fit that thence I took
Whereof to buy us bread.

'Do this: how can we give to you,'

IX.

"Sir! 'twas a precious flock to me,
As dear as my own children be;
For daily with my growing store
I loved my children more and more.

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VI.

"I sold a sheep, as they had said,
And bought my little children bread,
And they were healthy with their food;
For me-it never did me good.
A woeful time it was for me,

X.

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[Composed 1810 (?).-Published 1842.] DEPARTED Child! I could forget thee once Though at my bosom nursed; this woeful gain

Thy dissolution brings, that in my soul
Is present and perpetually abides

Of the rejoicing morning were their own?

Such union, in the lovely Girl maintained

And her twin Brother, had the parent

seen,

Ere, pouncing like a ravenous bird of

touched,

Shall I admit that nothing can restore 9 What one short sigh so easily removed? Death, life, and sleep, reality and thought, Assist me, God, their boundaries to know,

O teach me calm submission to thy Will!

The Child she mourned had overstepped the pale

Of Infancy, but still did breathe the air 15
That sanctifies its confines, and partook
Reflected beams of that celestial light
To all the Little-ones on sinful earth
Not unvouchsafed-a light that warmed
and cheered

Those several qualities of heart and mind Which, in her own blest nature, rooted deep,

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worse

To what he saw, he gradually returned, Like a scared Bird encouraged to renew A broken intercourse; and, while his eyes Were yet with pensive fear and gentle

awe

Turned upon her who bore him, she would stoop

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