That heareth not the loud winds when they call
And moveth all together, if it move at all.

XII.

At length, himself unsettling, he the pond
Stirred with his staff, and fixedly did look
Upon the muddy water, which he conned,
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,

ee

This morning gives us promise of a glorious day."

XIII.

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A gentle answer did the old Man make,

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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

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Broke from the sable orbs of his yet-vivid eyes,

XIV.

His words came feebly, from a feeble chest,
But each in solemn order followed each,

With something of a lofty utterance drest

Choice word and measured phrase, above the reach
Of ordinary men; a stately speech;

Such as grave Livers do in Scotland use,

Religious men, who give to God and man their dues.

XV.

He told, that to these waters he had come

To gather leeches, being old and poor :

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Employment hazardous and wearisome!

And he had many hardships to endure:

From pond to pond he roamed, from moor to moor;
Housing, with God's good help, by choice or chance,
And in this way he gained an honest maintenance.

XVI.

The old Man still stood talking by my side;
But now his voice to me was like a stream

Scarce heard; nor word from word could I divide;
And the whole body of the Man did seem
Like one whom I had met with in a dream;

Or like a man from some far region sent,

To give me human strength, by apt admonishment.

XVII.

My former thoughts returned: the fear that kills;

And hope that is unwilling to be fed;

Cold, pain, and labour, and all fleshly ills;

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And mighty Poets in their misery dead.

-Perplexed, and longing to be comforted,

My question eagerly did I renew,

९९

How is it that you live, and what is it you do?"

XVIII.

He with a smile did then his words repeat;
And said, that, gathering leeches, far and wide
He travelled; stirring thus about his feet

The waters of the pools where they abide.

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Once I could meet with them on every side;
But they have dwindled long by slow decay;
Yet still I persevere, and find them where I may.”

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XIX.

While he was talking thus, the lonely place,

The old Man's shape, and speech - all troubled me:
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 pursued,

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

XX.

And soon with this he other matter blended,
Cheerfully uttered, with demeanour kind,

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!"

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1802.

STANZAS

Written in my Pocket-Copy of Thomson's "CASTLE OF INDOLENCE."

WITHIN Our happy Castle there dwelt One
Whom without blame I may not overlook;
For never sun on living creature shone
Who more devout enjoyment with us took:
Here on his hours he hung as on a book,
On his own time here would he float away,
As doth a fly upon a summer brook;

But go to-morrow, or belike to-day,

Seek for him,

he is fled; and whither none can say.

5

Thus often would he leave our peaceful home,
And find elsewhere his business or delight;

Out of our Valley's limits did he roam :

Full many a time, upon a stormy night,

His voice came to us from the neighbouring height:
Oft could we see him driving full in view

At mid-day when the sun was shining bright;
What ill was on him, what he had to do,

A mighty wonder bred among our quiet crew.

Ah! piteous sight it was to see this Man
When he came back to us, a withered flower, -
Or like a sinful creature, pale and wan.

ΤΟ

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Down would he sit; and without strength or power
Look at the common grass from hour to hour :
And oftentimes, how long I fear to say,
Where apple-trees in blossom made a bower,
Retired in that sunshiny shade he lay;

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And, like a naked Indian, slept himself away.

Great wonder to our gentle tribe it was
Whenever from our Valley he withdrew;
For happier soul no living creature has
Than he had, being here the long day through.
Some thought he was a lover, and did woo:

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Some thought far worse of him, and judged him wrong;
But verse was what he had been wedded to;

And his own mind did like a tempest strong

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Come to him thus, and drove the weary Wight along.

With him there often walked in friendly guise,

Or lay upon the moss by brook or tree,
A noticeable Man with large gray eyes,
And a pale face that seemed undoubtedly
As if a blooming face it ought to be;

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Heavy his low-hung lip did oft appear,

Deprest by weight of musing Phantasy;

Profound his forehead was, though not severe;

Yet some did think that he had little business here:

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Sweet heaven forfend! his was a lawful right;

Noisy he was, and gamesome as a boy;

His limbs would toss about him with delight

Like branches when strong winds the trees annoy.
Nor lacked his calmer hours device or toy
To banish listlessness and irksome care;

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He would have taught you how you might employ
Yourself; and many did to him repair,—

And certes not in vain; he had inventions rare.

Expedients, too, of simplest sort he tried:

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Long blades of grass, plucked round him as he lay,
Made, to his ear attentively applied,

A pipe on which the wind would deftly play;

Glasses he had, that little things display,

The beetle panoplied in gems and gold,
A mailed angel on a battle-day;

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The mysteries that cups of flowers enfold,

And all the gorgeous sights which fairies do behold.

He would entice that other Man to hear

His music, and to view his imagery:

And, sooth, these two were each to the other dear :
No livelier love in such a place could be:

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There did they dwell

from earthly labour free,

As happy spirits as were ever seen;

If but a bird, to keep them company,

Or butterfly sate down, they were, I ween,

As pleased as if the same had been a Maiden-queen.

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