So that it seems a thing endued with sense: Like a sea-beast crawled forth, that on a shelf

Of rock or sand reposeth, there to sun itself;

Such seemed this Man, not all alive nor dead,

Nor all asleep-in his extreme old age: 65 His body was bent double, feet and head Coming together in life's pilgrimage;

As if some dire constraint of pain, or rage Of sickness felt by him in times long past, A more than human weight upon his frame had cast.

70

Himself he propped, limbs, body, and pale face,

Upon a long gray staff of shaven wood:
And, still as I drew near with gentle pace,
Upon the margin of that moorish flood
Motionless as a cloud the old Man stood; 75
That heareth not the loud winds when they
call;

And moveth altogether, if it move at all.
At length, himself unsettling, he the pond
Stirred with his staff, and fixedly did look
Upon the muddy water, which he conned, 80
As if he had been reading in a book:
And now a stranger's privilege I took;
And, drawing to his side, to him did say,
This morning gives us promise of a glori-
ous day.'

A gentle answer did the old Man make, 85 In courteous speech which forth he slowly drew:

And him with further words I thus bespake, 'What occupation do you there pursue? This is a lonesome place for one like you.' Ere he replied, a flash of mild surprise Broke from the sable orbs of his yet vivid eyes.

91

In my mind's eye I seemed to see him pace
About the weary moors continually,
Wandering about alone and silently.
While I these thoughts within myself pur-
sued,

He, having made a pause, the same discourse renewed.

And soon with this he other matter blended, Cheerfully uttered, with demeanor kind, 135 But stately in the main; and when he ended,

I could have laughed myself to scorn to find In that decrepit Man so firm a mind. 'God,' said I, 'be my help and stay secure; I'll think of the leech-gatherer on the lonely moor!'

(1807)

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