Intent upon a monumental stone,
Whose uncouth form was grafted on the wall, Or rather seemed to have grown into the
Of the rude pile; as oft-times trunks of trees, Where nature works in wild and craggy spots, Are seen incorporate with the living rock— To endure for aye. The Vicar, taking note Of his employment, with a courteous smile 920 Exclaimed-
"The sagest Antiquarian's eye That task would foil;" then, letting fall his
While he advanced, thus spake: "Tradition tells
That, in Eliza's golden days, a Knight
Came on a war-horse sumptuously attired, 925 And fixed his home in this sequestered vale. 'Tis left untold if here he first drew breath, Or as a stranger reached this deep recess, Unknowing and unknown. A pleasing thought I sometimes entertain, that haply bound To Scotland's court in service of his Queen, Or sent on mission to some northern Chief Of England's realm, this vale he might have
With transient observation; and thence caught An image fair, which, brightening in his soul 935 When joy of war and pride of chivalry Languished beneath accumulated years, Had power to draw him from the world, resolved To make that paradise his chosen home To which his peaceful fancy oft had turned. 940
Vague thoughts are these; but, if belief may rest
Upon unwritten story fondly traced
From sire to son, in this obscure retreat The Knight arrived, with spear and shield, and borne
Upon a Charger gorgeously bedecked With broidered housings. And the lofty Steed- His sole companion, and his faithful friend, Whom he, in gratitude, let loose to range In fertile pastures-was beheld with eyes Of admiration and delightful awe, By those untravelled Dalesmen.
Yet free from touch of envious discontent, They saw a mansion at his bidding rise, Like a bright star, amid the lowly band Of their rude homesteads. Here the Warrior
And, in that mansion, children of his own, Or kindred, gathered round him. As a tree That falls and disappears, the house is gone; And, through improvidence or want of love For ancient worth and honourable things, 960 The spear and shield are vanished, which the Knight
Hung in his rustic hall. One ivied arch Myself have seen, a gateway, last remains Of that foundation in domestic care
Raised by his hands. And now no trace is
965 Of the mild-hearted Champion, save this stone, Faithless memorial! and his family name Borne by yon clustering cottages, that sprang From out the ruins of his stately lodge: These, and the name and title at full length,— Sir Alfred Erthing, with appropriate words 971 Accompanied, still extant, in a wreath Or posy, girding round the several fronts
Of three clear-sounding and harmonious bells,
That in the steeple hang, his pious gift."
"So fails, so languishes, grows dim, and dies," The grey-haired Wanderer pensively exclaimed, 'All that this world is proud of. From their spheres
The stars of human glory are cast down; ; Perish the roses and the flowers of kings, Princes, and emperors, and the crowns and palms
Of all the mighty, withered and consumed! Nor is power given to lowliest innocence Long to protect her own. The man himself Departs; and soon is spent the line of those 985 Who, in the bodily image, in the mind, In heart or soul, in station or pursuit, Did most resemble him. Degrees and ranks, Fraternities and orders-heaping high New wealth upon the burthen of the old, And placing trust in privilege confirmed And re-confirmed-are scoffed at with a smile Of greedy foretaste, from the secret stand Of Desolation, aimed: to slow decline These yield, and these to sudden overthrow: 995 Their virtue, service, happiness, and state Expire; and nature's pleasant robe of green, Humanity's appointed shroud, enwraps Their monuments and their memory. The vast Frame
Of social nature changes evermore
Her organs and her members with decay Restless, and restless generation, powers And functions dying and produced at need,- And by this law the mighty whole subsists: With an ascent and progress in the main; 1005 Yet, oh! how disproportioned to the hopes And expectations of self-flattering minds!
"The courteous Knight, whose bones are here interred,
Lived in an age conspicuous as our own For strife and ferment in the minds of men; Whence alteration in the forms of things, 1011 Various and vast. A memorable age! Which did to him assign a pensive lot— To linger 'mid the last of those bright clouds That, on the steady breeze of honour, sailed In long procession calm and beautiful. He who had seen his own bright order fade, And its devotion gradually decline, (While war, relinquishing the lance and shield, Her temper changed, and bowed to other
Had also witnessed, in his morn of life, That violent commotion, which o'erthrew, In town and city and sequestered glen, Altar, and cross, and church of solemn roof, And old religious house-pile after pile; 1025 And shook their tenants out into the fields, Like wild beasts without home! Their hour was come;
But why no softening thought of gratitude, No just remembrance, scruple, or wise doubt? Benevolence is mild; nor borrows help, Save at worst need, from bold impetuous
Fitliest allied to anger and revenge. But Human-kind rejoices in the might Of mutability; and airy hopes, Dancing around her, hinder and disturb Those meditations of the soul that feed The retrospective virtues. Festive songs Break from the maddened nations at the sight Of sudden overthrow; and cold neglect Is the sure consequence of slow decay.
Even," said the Wanderer, "as that courteous Knight,
Bound by his vow to labour for redress Of all who suffer wrong, and to enact By sword and lance the law of gentleness, (If I may venture of myself to speak, Trusting that not incongruously I blend Low things with lofty) I too shall be doomed. To outlive the kindly use and fair esteem Of the poor calling which my youth embraced With no unworthy prospect. But enough; -Thoughts crowd upon me—and 'twere seem- lier now
To stop, and yield our gracious Teacher thanks For the pathetic records which his voice Hath here delivered; words of heartfelt truth, Tending to patience when affliction strikes ; To hope and love; to confident repose 1056 In God; and reverence for the dust of Man."
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