150

And stirrings of inquietude, when they
By tendency of nature needs must fail.
Exceeding was the love he bare to him,
His heart and his heart's joy! For often-
times

Old Michael, while he was a babe in arms,
Had done him female service, not alone
For pastime and delight, as is the use
Of fathers, but with patient mind enforced
To acts of tenderness; and he had rocked
His cradle, as with a woman's gentle hand.
And, in a later time, ere yet the Boy
Had put on boy's attire, did Michael love,
Albeit of a stern unbending mind,
To have the Young-one in his sight, when

he

161

Wrought in the field, or on his shepherd's

stool

Sate with a fettered sheep before him

stretched

Under the large old oak, that near his door Stood single, and, from matchless depth of shade,

Chosen for the Shearer's covert from the

sun,

Thence in our rustic dialect was called

Scared them, while they lay still beneath the shears.

And when by Heaven's good grace the boy grew up

A healthy Lad, and carried in his cheek Two steady roses that were five years old; Then Michael from a winter coppice cut 180 With his own hand a sapling, which he hooped

With iron, making it throughout in all Due requisites a perfect shepherd's staff, And gave it to the Boy; wherewith equipt He as a watchman oftentimes was placed At gate or gap, to stem or turn the flock; And, to his office prematurely called,

There stood the urchin, as you will divine, Something between a hindrance and a help; And for this cause not always, I believe, 190 Receiving from his Father hire of praise; Though nought was left undone which staff, or voice,

Or looks, or threatening gestures, could perform.

But soon as Luke, full ten years old,

could stand

In surety for his brother's son, a man
Of an industrious life, and ample means;
But unforeseen misfortunes suddenly
Had prest upon him; and old Michael now
Was summoned to discharge the forfeiture,
A grievous penalty, but little less

Than half his substance. This unlooked-for claim,

At the first hearing, for a moment took More hope out of his life than he supposed That any old man ever could have lost. 220 As soon as he had armed himself with strength

To look his trouble in the face, it seemed The Shepherd's sole resource to sell at once A portion of his patrimonial fields.

Such was his first resolve; he thought again, And his heart failed him. " Isabel," said he, Two evenings after he had heard the news, "I have been toiling more than seventy

years,

And in the open sunshine of God's love 229
Have we all lived; yet if these fields of ours
Should pass into a stranger's hand, I think
That I could not lie quiet in my grave.
Our lot is a hard lot; the sun himself
Has scarcely been more diligent than I;
And I have lived to be a fool at last
To my own family. An evil man
That was, and made an evil choice, if he
Were false to us; and if he were not false,
There are ten thousand to whom loss like
this

239

Had been no sorrow. I forgive him; - but "T were better to be dumb than to talk thus.

When I began, my purpose was to speak Of remedies and of a cheerful hope. Our Luke shall leave us, Isabel; the land Shall not go from us, and it shall be free; He shall possess it, free as is the wind That passes over it. We have, thou know'st, Another kinsman - he will be our friend In this distress. He is a prosperous man, Thriving in trade and Luke to him shall go,

250

And with his kinsman's help and his own

thrift

He quickly will repair this loss, and then

Were younger; but this hope is a good

hope.

- Make ready Luke's best garments, of

And said, "Nay, do not take it so I see That these are things of which I need not

speak. 360 -Even to the utmost I have been to thee A kind and a good Father: and herein I but repay a gift which I myself Received at others' hands; for, though now old

Beyond the common life of man, I still Remember them who loved me in my youth. Both of them sleep together: here they lived,

As all their Forefathers had done; and when

At length their time was come, they were not loth

To give their bodies to the family mould. I wished that thou should'st live the life they lived:

371

I knew that thou could'st never have a wish To leave me, Luke: thou hast been bound to me

400

Only by links of love: when thou art gone, What will be left to us! But, I forget My purposes. Lay now the corner-stone, As I requested; and hereafter, Luke, When thou art gone away, should evil men Be thy companions, think of me, my Son, And of this moment; hither turn thy thoughts,

And God will strengthen thee: amid all fear And all temptation, Luke, I pray that thou May'st bear in mind the life thy Fathers lived,

410

"The prettiest letters that were ever seen." Both parents read them with rejoicing hearts.

So, many months passed on: and once again The Shepherd went about his daily work With confident and cheerful thoughts; and

now

439

Sometimes when he could find a leisure hour
He to that valley took his way, and there
Wrought at the Sheepfold. Meantime Luke
began

To slacken in his duty; and, at length,
He in the dissolute city gave himself
To evil courses: ignominy and shame
Fell on him, so that he was driven at last
To seek a hiding-place beyond the seas.

There is a comfort in the strength of love; 'T will make a thing endurable, which else Would overset the brain, or break the heart: I have conversed with more than one who well

451

Remember the old Man, and what he was
Years after he had heard this heavy news.
His bodily frame had been from youth to age
Of an unusual strength. Among the rocks
He went, and still looked up to sun and
cloud,

And listened to the wind; and, as before,
Performed all kinds of labour for his sheep,
And for the land, his small inheritance. 459
And to that hollow dell from time to time
Did he repair, to build the Fold of which
His flock had need. "T is not forgotten yet
The pity which was then in every heart
For the old Man- and 't is believed by all
That many
and many a day he thither went,
And never lifted up a single stone.
There, by the Sheepfold, sometimes was

he seen

In all the neighbourhood: - yet the oak is left

That grew beside their door; and the remains

480 Of the unfinished Sheepfold may be seen Beside the boisterous brook of Greenhead Ghyll.

THE IDLE SHEPHERD-BOYS

OR, DUNGEON-GHYLL FORCE

A PASTORAL 1800. 1800

Written at Town-end, Grasmere. I will only add a little monitory anecdote concerning this subject. When Coleridge and Southey were walking together upon the Fells, Southey observed that, if I wished to be considered a faithful painter of rural manners, I ought not to have said that my Shepherd-boys trimmed their rustic hats as described in the poem. Just as the words had passed his lips two boys appeared with the very plant entwined round their hats. I have often wondered that Southey, who rambled so much about the mountains, should have fallen into this mistake, and I record it as a warning for others who, with far less opportunity than my dear friend had of knowing what things are, and far less sagacity, give way to presumptuous criticism, from which he was free, though in this matter mistaken. In describing a tarn under Helvellyn, I say

"There sometimes doth a leaping fish Send through the tarn a lonely cheer." This was branded by a critic of these days, in a review ascribed to Mrs. Barbauld, as unnatural and absurd. I admire the genius of Mrs. Barbauld, and am certain that, had her education been favourable to imaginative influences, no female of her day would have been more likely to sympathise with that image, and to acknowledge the truth of the sentiment.