gives, His present blessings, and to husband up Yet further. Many, I believe, there are Make slow to feel, and by sure steps resign 140 95 To selfishness and cold oblivious cares. Among the farms and solitary huts, Some there are, 110 In childhood, from this solitary being, Or from like wanderer haply have received Or the solicitudes of love can do!) 115 In which they found their kindred with Where want and sorrow were. The easy man Who sits at his own door,- and, like the pear That overhangs his head from the green wall. Feeds in the sunshine; the robust and young, 120 The prosperous and unthinking, they who live Sheltered, and flourish in a little grove Of their own kindred; -all behold in him A silent monitor, which on their minds Must needs impress a transitory thought 125 Of self-congratulation, to the heart Of each recalling his peculiar boons, Though he to no one give the fortitude 150 155 160 Their kindred, and the children of their blood. Praise be to such, and to their slumbers peace! -But of the poor man ask, the abject 165 To breathe and live but for himself alone, Has hung around him: and, while life Still let him prompt the unlettered villagers 170 To tender offices and pensive thoughts. - Then let him pass, a blessing on his head! And, long as he can wander, let him breathe The freshness of the valleys; let his blood 15 Through beds of matted fern, and tangled 20 25 30 thickets, Forcing my way, I came to one dear nook Of devastation; but the hazels rose A virgin scene!-A little while I stood, As joy delights in; and with wise restraint A temper known to those who, after long The violets of five seasons reappear, And fade, unseen by any human eye; Where fairy water-breaks' do murmur on Forever; and I saw the sparkling foam, 35 And-with my cheek on one of those green stones That, fleeced with moss, under the shady trees, Lay round me, scattered like a flock of Wasting its kindliness on stocks and stones, 45 And merciless ravage: and the shady nook Of hazels, and the green and mossy bower, Deformed and sullied, patiently gave up Their quiet being: and unless I now Confound my present feelings with the past, 50 Ere from the mutilated bower I turned Exulting, rich beyond the wealth of kings, I felt a sense of pain when I beheld The silent trees, and saw the intruding sky. Then, dearest maiden, move along these shades 55 In gentleness of heart; with gentle hand Touch-for there is a spirit in the woods. 1 ripples Three years she grew in sun and shower, This child I to myself will take; 5 She shall be mine, and I will make A lady of my own. "Myself will to my darling be Both law and impulse: and with me 25 What fond and wayward thoughts will slide 10 In earth and heaven, in glade and bower, Into a lover's head! "O mercy!" to myself I cried, "If Lucy should be dead!"' Shall feel an overseeing power "She shall be sportive as the fawn 15 Or up the mountain springs; "The floating clouds their state shall lend 20 To her; for her the willow bend; Nor shall she fail to see Even in the motions of the storm 25 The stars of midnight shall be dear In many a secret place Where rivulets dance their wayward round, And beauty born of murmuring sound 30 Shall pass into her face. 25 And just above yon slope of corn Were in the sky, that April morn, "With rod and line I sued1 the sport 30 Which that sweet season gave, And, to the churchyard come, stopped short, Beside my daughter's grave. 'Nine summers had she scarcely seen, 35 And then she sang;-she would have been A very nightingale, "Six feet in earth my Emma lay; And yet I loved her more, For so it seemed, than till that day 40 I e'er had loved before. ' "And, turning from her grave, I met, 45 "A basket on her head she bare; "No fountain from its rocky cave 50 E'er tripped with foot so free; She seemed as happy as a wave That dances on the sea. "There came from me a sigh of pain Which I could ill confine; 55 I looked at her, and looked again: Matthew is in his grave, yet now, |