Of sorrow and dejection; but I feel No sadness, when I think of what mine eyes See daily in that happy family. 1126 -Bright garland form they for the pensive brow Of their undrooping Father's widowhood, grown Out of the living rock, to be adorned By nature only; but, if thither led, Ye would discover, then, a studious work 1137 1145 Brought from the woods the honeysuckle twines Around the porch, and seems, in that trim place, 1150 A plant no longer wild; the cultured rose There blossoms, strong in health, and will be soon Roof-high; the wild pink crowns the garden wall, And with the flowers are intermingled stones Sparry and bright, rough scatterings of the 1155 hills. These ornaments, that fade not with the year, A hardy Girl continues to provide; Who, mounting fearlessly the rocky heights, Her Father's prompt attendant, does for him All that a boy could do, but with delight 1160 More keen and prouder daring; yet hath she, Within the garden, like the rest, a bed For her own flowers and favourite herbs, a space, By sacred charter, holden for her use. These, and whatever else the garden bears Of fruit or flower, permission asked or not, 1166 I freely gather; and my leisure draws A not unfrequent pastime from the hum Of bees around their range of sheltered hives Busy in that enclosure; while the rill, That sparkling thrids the rocks, attunes his voice II7༠ To the pure course of human life which there Flows on in solitude. But, when the gloom Of night is falling round my steps, then most This Dwelling charms me; often I stop short, (Who could refrain ?) and feed by stealth my sight 1176 With prospect of the company within, 1180 The never-halting time; or, in her turn, self, While she was yet a little-one, had learned. 1184 Mild Man! he is not gay, but they are gay; And the whole house seems filled with gaiety. -Thrice happy, then, the Mother may be deemed, The Wife, from whose consolatory grave 1189 I turned, that ye in mind might witness where, And how, her Spirit yet survives on earth!" |