Relinquished, lived dependent for his bread The Housewife, tempted by such slender gains Her doors to admit this homeless Pensioner; For spendthrift feats, excesses of his prime. And helpful to his utmost power: and there Our housewife knew full well what she possessed He was her vassal of all labor, tilled Her garden, from the pasture fetched her kine; Of haymakers, beneath the burning sun His course, on errands bound, to other vales, So moved he like a shadow that performed For what reward! · Mark me now, and learn The moon her monthly round Hath not completed since our dame, the queen Of this one cottage and this lonely dale, Into my little sanctuary rushed, Voice to a rueful treble humanized, I treat the matter lightly, but, alas! Had clomb aloft to delve the moorland turf For winter fuel to his noontide meal Returned not, and now, haply, on the heights "Inhuman!" said I, 66 was an old Man's life Not worth the trouble of a thought? alas! This notice comes too late." With joy I saw Her husband enter, from a distant vale. Without remission of the blast or shower, And fears for our own safety drove us home. "I, who weep little, did, I will confess, The moment I was seated here alone, Honor my little cell with some few tears Which anger and resentment could not dry. All night the storm endured; and, soon as help Had been collected from the neighboring vale, With morning we renewed our quest: the wind Was fallen, the rain abated, but the hills Lay shrouded in impenetrable mist; And long and hopelessly we sought in vain: Till, chancing on that lofty ridge to pass A heap of ruin, almost without walls And wholly without roof, (the bleached remains Of a small chapel, where, in ancient time, The peasants of these lonely valleys used To meet for worship on that central height,) – We there espied the object of our search, Lying full three parts buried among tufts Of heath-plant, under and above him strewn, To baffle, as he might, the watery storm : And there we found him breathing peaceably, Snug as a child that hides itself in sport 'Mid a green hay cock in a sunny field. We spake, he made reply, but would not stir At our entreaty; less from want of power T'han apprehension and bewildering thoughts. "So was he lifted gently from the ground, And with their freight homeward the shepherds moved Through the dull mist, I following, when a step, By waking sense or by the dreaming soul! Bore stars, illumination of all gems! By earthly nature had the effect been wrought Upon the dark materials of the storm Now pacified; on them, and on the coves And mountain-steeps and summits, whereunto Their station under a cerulean sky. O, 't was an unimaginable sight! Clouds, mists, streams, watery rocks, and emerald turf, Clouds of all tincture, rocks and sapphire sky, Confused, commingled, mutually inflamed, Stood fixed; and fixed resemblances were seen But vast in size, in substance glorified; Swelled in my breast. 'I have been dead,” I cried, I then forgot him: there I stood and gazed : The apparition faded not away, And I descended. Having reached the house, I found its rescued inmate safely lodged, |