While at the stall he read. Among the hills He gazed upon that mighty orb of song, The divine Milton. Lore of different kind, The annual savings of a toilsome life,
His Schoolmaster supplied; books that explain The purer elements of truth involved
In lines and numbers, and, by charms severe, (Especially perceived where nature droops And feeling is suppressed,) preserve the mind Busy in solitude and poverty.
These occupations oftentimes deceived
The listless hours, while in the hollow vale, Hollow and green, he lay on the green turf In pensive idleness. What could he do, Thus daily thirsting, in that lonesome life, With blind endeavors? Yet, still uppermost, Nature was at his heart, as if he felt,
Though yet he knew not how, a wasting power In all things that from her sweet influence Might tend to wean him. Therefore with her hues, Her forms, and with the spirit of her forms, He clothed the nakedness of austere truth. While yet he lingered in the rudiments Of science, and among her simplest laws, His triangles, they were the stars of heaven, The silent stars! Oft did he take delight To measure the altitude of some tall crag That is the eagle's birthplace, or some peak Familiar with forgotten years, that shows Inscribed upon its visionary sides
The history of many a winter storm,
Or obscure records of the path of fire.
And thus before his eighteenth year was told, Accumulated feelings pressed his heart
With still increasing weight; he was o'erpowered By Nature; by the turbulence subdued Of his own mind; by mystery and hope, And the first virgin passion of a soul Communing with the glorious universe.
Full often wished he that the winds might rage When they were silent: far more fondly now Than in his earlier season did he love
Tempestuous nights, the conflict and the sounds
That live in darkness. From his intellect And from the stillness of abstracted thought He asked repose; and, failing oft to win The peace required, he scanned the laws of light Amid the roar of torrents, where they send From hollow clefts up to the clearer air A cloud of mist, that, smitten by the sun, Varies its rainbow hues. But vainly thus, And vainly by all other means, he strove To mitigate the fever of his heart.
In dreams, in study, and in ardent thought, Thus was he reared; much wanting to assist The growth of intellect, yet gaining more, And every moral feeling of his soul
Strengthened and braced, by breathing in content
The keen, the wholesome air of poverty, And drinking from the well of homely life. -But, from past liberty, and tried restraints, He now was summoned to select the course Of humble industry that promised best To yield him no unworthy maintenance. Urged by his Mother, he essayed to teach A village school,
but wandering thoughts were
A misery to him; and the Youth resigned A task he was unable to perform.
That stern yet kindly Spirit, who constrains The Savoyard to quit his naked rocks, The free-born Swiss to leave his narrow vales, (Spirit attached to regions mountainous Like their own steadfast clouds,) did now impel His restless mind to look abroad with hope.
- An irksome drudgery seems it to plod on, Through hot and dusty ways, or pelting storm, A vagrant Merchant under a heavy load Bent as he moves, and needing frequent rest; Yet do such travellers find their own delight; And their hard service, deemed debasing now, Gained merited respect in simpler times; When squire, and priest, and they who round them dwelt
In rustic sequestration - all dependent
Upon the PEDDLER'S toil-supplied their wants, Or pleased their fancies, with the wares he brought.
Not ignorant was the Youth that still no few Of his adventurous countrymen were led By perseverance in this track of life
To competence and ease: to him it offered Attractions manifold; and this he chose.
- His Parents on the enterprise bestowed Their farewell benediction, but with hearts Foreboding evil. From his native hills He wandered far; much did he see of men, Their manners, their enjoyments, and pursuits,
Their passions and their feelings; chiefly those ja
Essential and eternal in the heart,
That 'mid the simpler forms of rural life Exist more simple in their elements,
And speak a plainer language. In the woods, A lone enthusiast, and among the fields, Itinerant in this labor, he had passed The better portion of his time; and there Spontaneously had his affections thriven Amid the bounties of the year, the peace And liberty of Nature; there he kept In solitude and solitary thought His mind in a just equipoise of love. Serene it was, unclouded by the cares Of ordinary life; unvexed, unwarped By partial bondage. In his steady course, No piteous revolutions had he felt, No wild varieties of joy and grief. Unoccupied by sorrow of its own,
His heart lay open; and, by Nature tuned
And constant disposition of his thoughts To sympathy with man, he was alive To all that was enjoyed where'er he went, And all that was endured; for, in himself Happy, and quiet in his cheerfulness,
He had no painful pressure from without That made him turn aside from wretchedness With coward fears. He could afford to suffer With those whom he saw suffer. Hence it came That in our best experience he was rich, And in the wisdom of our daily life. For hence, minutely, in his various rounds, He had observed the progress and decay Of many minds, of minds and bodies too;
The history of many families;
How they had prospered; how they were o'er
By passion or mischance, or such misrule Among the unthinking masters of the earth As makes the nations groan.
He followed till provision for his wants
Had been obtained; the Wanderer then resolved the remnant of his days, untasked
With needless services, from hardship free. His calling laid aside, he lived at ease:
But still he loved to pace the public roads
And the wild paths; and, by the Summer's warmth Invited, often would he leave his home
And journey far, revisiting the scenes
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