When thou return'st, thou in this place wilt see
A work which is not here: a covenant

'T will be between us; but, whatever fate

Befall thee, I shall love thee to the last,

And bear thy memory with me to the grave."

The Shepherd ended here; and Luke stooped down, And, as his Father had requested, laid

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The first stone of the Sheepfold. At the sight

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The old Man's grief broke from him; to his heart
He pressed his Son, he kissèd him and wept ;

And to the house together they returned.

Hushed was that House in peace, or seeming peace,

Ere the night fell: with morrow's dawn the Boy

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Began his journey, and when he had reached

The public way, he put on a bold face;
And all the neighbours, as he passed their doors,
Came forth with wishes and with farewell prayers,
That followed him till he was out of sight.

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A good report did from their Kinsman come, Of Luke and his well-doing: and the Boy

Wrote loving letters, full of wondrous news,

Which, as the Housewife phrased it, were throughout "The prettiest letters that were ever seen."

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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
Sometimes when he could find a leisure hour

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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

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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
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.
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.

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There, by the Sheepfold, sometimes was he seen

Sitting alone, or with his faithful Dog,

Then old, beside him, lying at his feet.

The length of full seven years, from time to time,

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He at the building of this Sheepfold wrought,

And left the work unfinished when he died.

Three years, or little more, did Isabel

Survive her Husband: at her death the estate

Was sold, and went into a stranger's hand.

The Cottage which was named the EVENING STAR

Is gone the ploughshare has been through the ground
On which it stood; great changes have been wrought
In all the neighbourhood: - yet the oak is left

That grew beside their door; and the remains

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Of the unfinished Sheepfold may be seen

Beside the boisterous brook of Greenhead Ghyll.

FRAGMENT FROM THE RECLUSE.

BOOK I.

ON Man, on Nature, and on Human Life, Musing in solitude, I oft perceive

Fair trains of imagery before me rise,

Accompanied by feelings of delight

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Pure, or with no unpleasing sadness mixed;
And I am conscious of affecting thoughts

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And dear remembrances, whose presence soothes
Or elevates the Mind, intent to weigh

The good and evil of our mortal state.

To these emotions, whencesoe'er they come,
Whether from breath of outward circumstance,
Or from the Soul
an impulse to herself
I would give utterance in numerous verse.

Of Truth, of Grandeur, Beauty, Love, and Hope,
And melancholy Fear subdued by Faith;

Of blessed consolations in distress;
Of moral strength, and intellectual Power;
Of joy in widest commonalty spread;
Of the individual Mind that keeps her own
Inviolate retirement, subject there
To Conscience only, and the law supreme
Of that Intelligence which governs all-

I sing :

"fit audience let me find though few!" So prayed, more gaining than he asked, the Bard – In holiest mood. Urania, I shall need

1Ο

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Thy guidance, or a greater Muse, if such
Descend to earth or dwell in highest heaven!
For I must tread on shadowy ground, must sink
Deep-and, aloft ascending, breathe in worlds
To which the heaven of heavens is but a veil.
All strength - all terror, single or in bands,
That ever was put forth in personal form
Jehovah with his thunder, and the choir
Of shouting Angels, and the empyreal thrones -
I pass them unalarmed. Not Chaos, not

The darkest pit of lowest Erebus,

Nor aught of blinder vacancy, scooped out

By help of dreams — can breed such fear and awe

As falls upon us often when we look

Into our Minds, into the Mind of Man

My haunt, and the main region of my song.
Beauty a living Presence of the earth,

Surpassing the most fair ideal Forms

Which craft of delicate Spirits hath composed
From earth's materials - - waits upon my steps;
Pitches her tents before me as I move,

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An hourly neighbour. Paradise, and groves
Elysian, Fortunate Fields like those of old

Sought in the Atlantic Main - why should they be

A history only of departed things,

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Or a mere fiction of what never was?
For the discerning intellect of Man,
When wedded to this goodly universe
In love and holy passion, shall find these
A simple produce of the common day.

- I, long before the blissful hour arrives,
Would chant, in lonely peace, the spousal verse
Of this great consummation :-- and, by words
Which speak of nothing more than what we are,

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Would I arouse the sensual from their sleep
Of Death, and win the vacant and the vain
To noble raptures; while my voice proclaims
How exquisitely the individual Mind

(And the progressive powers perhaps no less
Of the whole species) to the external World

Is fitted and how exquisitely, too

:

Theme this but little heard of among men
The external World is fitted to the Mind;
And the creation (by no lower name

Can it be called) which they with blended might
Accomplish: this is our high argument.
-Such grateful haunts foregoing, if I oft

Must turn elsewhere to travel near the tribes
And fellowships of men, and see ill sights
Of madding passions mutually inflamed ;
Must hear Humanity in fields and groves
Pipe solitary anguish; or must hang
Brooding above the fierce confederate storm
Of sorrow, barricadoed evermore

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Within the walls of cities—may these sounds

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Have their authentic comment; that even these

Hearing, I be not downcast or forlorn !—
Descend, prophetic Spirit! that inspir'st
The human Soul of universal earth,

Dreaming on things to come; and dost possess
A metropolitan temple in the hearts

Of mighty Poets; upon me bestow

A gift of genuine insight; that my Song
With star-like virtue in its place may shine,
Shedding benignant influence, and secure
Itself from all malevolent effect

Of those mutations that extend their sway
Throughout the nether sphere!

And if with this

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