How long, and by what kindly outward aids,
And in what pure contentedness of mind,
The sad privation was by bim endured.
-And yon tall Pine-tree, whose composing sound
Was wasted on the good Man's living ear,
Hath now its own peculiar sanctity;
And, at the touch of every wandering breeze,
Murmurs, not idly, o'er his peaceful grave.

Murmured the labouring bee. When stormy wiods
Were workiog the broad bosom of the lake
loto a thousand thousand sparkling waves,
Rocking the trees, or driving cloud on cloud
Along the sharp edge of yon lofty crags,
The agitated scene before his

eye
! Was silent as a picture: evermore
I Were all things silent, wheresoe'er he moved.
| Yet, by the solace of his own pure thoughts

('pheld, he duteously pursued the round
I of rural labours; the steep mountain-side

Ascended with his staff and faithful dog;
The plough he guided, and the scythe he swayed ;
And the ripe corn before bis sickle fell
Among the jocund reapers. For himself,
All watchful and industrious as he was,
He wrought not; neither field por tlock he owned:

No wish for wealth had place within his mind;
| Nor husband's love, nor father's hope or care.
| Though born a younger Brother, need was none

That from the floor of his paternal home
He should depart, to plant himself anew.
And when, mature in manhood, he beheld
His Parents laid in earth, no loss ensued
Of rights to him; but he remained well pleased,
By the pure bond of independent love
Ao inmate of a second family,
The fellow-labourer and friend of him
To whom the small inheritance had fallen.
-Nor deem that his mild presence was a weight
That pressed upon his brother's house, for books
Were ready comrades whom he could not tire,-
Of whose society the blameless Man
Was never satiate. Their familiar voice,
Even to old age, with unabated charm
Beguiled his leisure hours; refreshed his thoughts ;
Beyond its natural elevation raised
His introverted spirit; and bestowed
l'pon his life an outward dignity
Which all acknowledged. The dark winter night,
The stormy day, had each its own resource ;
Song of the muses, sage historic tale,
Science severe, or word of Holy Writ
Announcing immortality and joy
To the assembled spirits of the just,
From imperfection and decay secure.
– Thus soothed at home, thus busy in the field,
To no perverse suspicion he gave way,
No languor, peevishness, nor vain complaint :
And they, who were about him, did not fail
la reverence, or in courtesy; they prized
His gentle manners :--and his peaceful smiles,
The gleams of his slow-varying countenance,
Were met with answering sympathy and love.

« Soul-cheering Light, most bountiful of Things!
Guide of our way, mysterious Comforter !
Whose sacred influence,spread through earth and heaven,
We all too thanklessly participate,
Thy gifts were utterly withheld from Him
Whose place of rest is near yon ivied Porch.
Yet, of the wild brooks ask if he complained ;
Ask of the channelled rivers if they held
A safer, easier, more determined course.
What terror doth it strike into the mind
To think of One, who cannot see, advancing
Towards some precipice's airy brink!
But, timely warned, He would have stayed his steps ;
Protected, say enlightened, by his ear,
And on the very edge of vacancy
Not more endangered than a Man whose eye
Beholds the gulf beneath.-No floweret blooms
Throughout the lofty range of these rough hills,
Or in the woods, that could from him conceal
Its birth-place; none whose figure did not live
Upon his touch. The bowels of the earth
Enriched with knowledge bis industrious mind;
The ocean paid bim tribute from the stores
Lodged in her bosom ; and, by science led,
His genius mounted to the plains of Heaven.

- Methinks I see him-how his eye-balls rolled,
Beneath his ample brow, in darkness paired, -
But each instinct with spirit; and the frame
Of the whole countenance alive with thought,
Fancy, and understanding; while the voice
Discoursed of natural or moral truth
With eloquence, and such authentic power,
That, in his presence, humbler knowledge stood
Abashed, and tender pity overawed.»

a At length, when sixty years and five were told, A slow disease insensibly consumed The powers of nature: and a few short steps Of friends and kindred bore him from his home

(Yon Cottage shaded by the woody crags) | To the profounder stillness of the grave.

Nor was his funeral denied the grace
Of many tears, virtuous and thoughtful grief;
lleart-sorrow rendered sweet by gratitude.
And now that monumental Stone

preserves His name, and unambitiously relates

« A noble-and, to unreflecting minds, A marvellous spectacle,» the Wanderer said, « Beings like these present! But proof abounds Upon the earth that faculties, which seem Extinguished, do not, therefore, cease to be. And to the mind among her powers of sense This transfer is permitted, -not alone That the bereft their recompense may win; But for remoter purposes of love And charity; nor last nor least for this, That to the imagination may be given А type

and shadow of an awful truth; How, likewise, under sufferance divine, Darkness is banished from the realms of Death, By man's imperishable spirit, quelled. Unto the men who see not as we see Futurity was thought, in ancient times, To be laid open, and they prophesied. And know we not that from the blind have flowed The highest, holiest, raptures of the lyre ; And wisdom married to immortal verse!»

Among the humbler Worthies, at our feet Lying insensible to human praise, Love, or regret,—whose lineaments would next Have been pourtrayed, I guess pot; but it chanced That near the quiet church-yard where we sate A Team of horses, with a ponderous freight Pressing behind, adown a rugged slope, Whose sharp descent confounded their array, Came at that moment, ringiog noisily.

« Here,» said the Pastor, « do we muse, and mourn The waste of death; and lo! the giant Oak Stretched on his bier;—that massy timber wain; Nor fail to note the Man who guides the team.»

He was a Peasant of the lowest class : Grey locks profusely round his temples hung In clustering curls, like ivy, which the bite Of Winter cannot thin; the fresh air lodged Within his cheek, as light within a cloud; And he returned our greeting with a smile. When he had passed, the Solitary spake; -« A Man he seems of cheerful yesterdays And confident to-morrows, with a face Not worldly-minded; for it bears too much Of Nature's impress, -gaiety and health, Freedom and hope; but keen, withal, and shrewd. Dis gestures note,--and hark! his tones of voice Are all vivacious as his mien apd looks.»

The Pastor answered. « You have read him well. Year after year is added to his store With silent increase : summers, winters--past, Past or to come; yea, boldly might I say, Ten summers and ten winters of a space That lies beyond life's ordinary bounds, Upon his sprightly vigour cappot fix The obligation of an anxious mind, A pride in having, or a fear to lose ; Possessed like outskirts of some large Domain, By any one more thought of than by him Who holds the land in fee, its careless Lord!

- Yet is the creature rational-endowed
With foresight; hears, 100, every Sabbath day,
The Christian promise with attentive ear;
Nor will, I trust, the Majesty of Ileaven
Reject the incense offered up by him,
Though of the kind which beasts and birds present
In grove or pasture; checrfulness of soul,
From trepidation and repining free.
How many scrupulous worshippers fall down
Upon their knees, and daily homage pay
Less worthy, less religious even, than his!

« This qualified respect, the Old Man's due,
Is paid without reluctance; but in truth,»
(Said the good Vicar with a fond half-smile)
«I feel al times a motion of despite
Tow'rds One, whose bold contrivances and skill,
As you have seen, bear such conspicuous part
In works of havoc; taking from these vales,
One after one, their proudest oroaments.
Full oft his doings leave me to deplore
Tall ash-tree sown by winds, by vapours nursed,
In the dry crannies of the pendent rocks;
Light birch, aloft upon the horizon's edge,
A vcil of glory for the ascending moon;

Tell in their idle songs of wandering Gods,
Pan or Apollo, veiled in human form;
Yet, like the sweet-breathed violet of the shade,
Discovered in their own despite to sense
Of Mortals (if such fables without blame
May find Chance-mention on this sacred ground)
So, through a simple rustic garb's disguise,
And through the impediment of rural cares,
In him revealed a Scholar's genius shove ;
And so, not wholly hidden from men's sight,
In him the spirit of a Hero walked
Our unpretending valley.-How the coil
Whizzed from the Stripling's arm! If touched by him,
The inglorious foot-ball mounted to the pitch
Of the lark's flight, -

,-or shaped a rainbow curve,
Aloft, in prospect of the shouting field !
The indefatigable fox had learued
To dread his perseverance in the chase.
With admiration would he lift his eyes
To the wide-ruling eagle, and his band
Was Joth to assault the majesty he loved ;
Else had the strongest fastnesses proved weak
To guard the royal brood. The sailing glead,
The wheeling swallow, and the darting snipe,
The sportive sea-gull dancing with the waves,
And cautious water-fowl, from distant climes,
Fixed at their seat, the centre of the Mere,
Were subject to young Oswald's steady aim.

« From Gallia's coast a Tyrant hurled his threats; Our Country marked the preparation vast Of hostile Forces; and she called-with voice That filled her plains and reached her utmost shores, And in remotest vales was heard-to Arms! -Then, for the first time, here you might have seen The Shepherd's grey to martial scarlet changed, That flashed uncouthly through the woods and fields. Ten hardy Striplinirs, all in bright attire, And graced with shining weapons, weekly marched, From this lone valley, to a central spot Where, in assemblage with the Flower and Choice of the surrounding district, they might learn The rudiments of war; ten--hardy, strong, And valiant; but young Oswald, like a Chief And yet a modest Comrade, led them forth From their shy solitude, to face the world, With a gay confidence and seemly pride ; Measuring the soil beneath their happy feet Like Youths released from labour, and yet bound To most laborious service, though to them A festival of unencumbered ease; The inner spirit keeping holiday, Like vernal ground to sabbath sunshine left.

« Oft have I marked him, at some leisure lour, Stretched on the grass or seated in the shade Among his Fellows, while an ample Map Before their eyes lay carefully outspread, From which the gallant Teacher would discourse, Now pointing this way and now that.—Here tlows, Thus would he say, 'the Rhine, that famous stream! Eastward, the Danube tow'rd this inland sea, A mightier river, winds from realm to realm;-And, like a serpent, shews his glittering back Despotted with innumerable isles. llere reigns the Russian, there the Turk; observe

Dis capital city!—Thence-along a tract
Of livelier interest to his hopes and fears
His finger moved, distinguishing the spots
Where wide-spread conflict then most fiercely raged;
Nor left unstigmatized those fatal Fields
On which the Sons of mighty Germany
Were taught a base submission.—llere behold
A nobler race, the Switzers, and their Land;
Vales deeper far than these of ours, huge woods,
And mountains while with everlasting snow!

- And, surely, he, that spake with kindling brow,
Was a true Patriot, hopeful as the best
Of that youny Peasantry, who, in our days,
Have fought and perished for Helvetia's rights, –
Ah, not in vain !-or those who, in old time,
For work of happier issue, to the side
Of Tell came trooping from a thousand buts,
When he had risen alone! No braver Youth
Descended from Judean heights, to march
With righteous Joshua; or appeared in arms
When grove was felled, and altar was cast down,
And Gideon blew the trumpet, soul-entlamed,
And strong in hatred of idolatry,»

This spoken, from his seat the Pastor rose, And moved towards the grave; instinctively His steps we followed; and my voice exclaimed, « Power to the Oppressors of the world is given, A might of which they dream not.

Oh! the curse, To be the Awakener of divinest thoughts, Father and founder of exalted deeds, And to whole nations bound in servile straits The liberal Donor of capacities More than heroic! this to be, nor yet llave sense of one connatural wish, nor yet Deserve the least return of human thanks; Wioning no recompense but deadly hate With pity mixed, astonishment with score !»

When these involuntary words had ceased, The Pastor said, « So Providence is served; The forked weapon of the skies can send Illumination into deep, dark Holds, Which the mild sunbeam bath not power to pierce. Why do ye quake, intimidated Thrones? For, not unconscious of the mighty debt Which to outrageous Wrong the Sufferer owes, Europe, through all her habitable seats, Is thirsting for their overthrow, who still Exist, as Pagan Temples stood of old, By very horror of their impious rites Preserved ; are suffered to extend their pride, Like Cedars on the top of Lebanon Darkening the sun.-But less impatient thoughts, And love all lioping and expecting all,' This hallowed Grave demands; where rests in peace A humble Champion of the better Cause; A Peasant-youth, so call him, for he asked No higher pame; io whom our Country showed, As in a favourite Son, most beautiful. In spite of vice, and misery, and disease, Spread with the spreading of her wealthy aris, England, the ancient and the free, appeared, lu him to stand, before my swimming eyes, Unconquerably virtuous and secure.