I roved o'er many a hill and many a dale, With my accustomed load; in heat and cold, Through many a wood and many an open ground, In sunshine and in shade, in wet and fair, Drooping or blithe of heart, as might befal; My best companions now the driving winds, And now the 'trotting brooks'* and whispering trees, And now the music of my own sad steps, With many a short-lived thought that passed between, I journeyed back this way, The honeysuckle, crowding round the porch, Hung down in heavier tufts; and that bright weed, The yellow stone-crop,t suffered to take root Along the window's edge, profusely grew, Blinding the lower panes. And strolled into her garden. I turned aside, It appeared To lag behind the season, and had lost Its pride of neatness. Daisy-flowers and thrift§ * "Adoun some trotting burn's meander."-BURNS.-ED. "Decking with liquid pearl the bladed grass." -Lysander in Midsummer Night's Dream, Sedum acre.—ED. Act. i. Sc. i., 1. 211.-ED. § Statice armerium.-ED. Had broken their trim border-lines, and straggled The cumbrous bind-weed,* with its wreaths and bells, Ere this an hour Was wasted.-Back I turned my restless steps; Then, like a blast that dies away self-stilled, And, looking round me, now I first observed With dull red stains discoloured, and stuck o'er From these tall elms; the cottage-clock struck eight;— I turned, and saw her distant a few steps. Her face was pale and thin-her figure, too, Was changed. As she unlocked the door, she said, She told me interrupting not the work Which gave employment to her listless hands- And so I waste my time: for I am changed; And to myself,' said she, 'have done much wrong 1 And to this helpless infant. Weeping, and weeping have I waked; my tears 2 As others are; and I could never die. But I am now in mind and in my heart More easy; and I hope,' said she, 'that God 1 Which I behold at home.' Your very soul to see her. It would have grieved Sir, I feel The story linger in my heart; I fear Your very soul to see her: evermore eyelids drooped, her eyes downward were cast; 2 And, when she at her table gave me food, She did not look at me. Her body Her voice was low, was subdued. In every act Pertaining to her house-affairs, appeared The careless stillness of a thinking mind Still she sighed, But yet no motion of the breast was seen, No heaving of the heart. While by the fire We sate together, sighs came on my ear, I knew not how, and hardly whence they came. 11832. 21849. that heaven 1814. were downward cast; 1814. Ere my departure, to her care I gave, In God's good love, and seek his help by prayer. I returned, And took my rounds along this road again She knew not that he lived; if he were dead, Bespake a sleepy hand of negligence; * The floor was neither dry nor neat, the hearth No tidings which might lead her anxious mind * Mr H. H. Turner suggests that this line would be more naturally written, Bespake a hand of sleepy negligence." The alteration would be an improvement.-ED. |