"A cunning artist will I have to frame And they who do make mention of the same, "And, gallant Stag! to make thy praises known, 65 And planted where thy hoofs the turf have grazed. "And, in the summer-time when days are long, 70 "Till the foundations of the mountains fail 75 Then home he went, and left the Hart, stone-dead, Ere thrice the Moon into her port had steered, And near the fountain, flowers of stature tall With trailing plants and trees were intertwined,— 80 85 And thither, when the summer days were long, 90 The Knight, Sir Walter, died in course of time, 95 But there is matter for a second rhyme, PART SECOND. THE moving accident is not my trade; As I from Hawes to Richmond did repair, What this imported I could ill divine: The trees were grey, with neither arms nor head; I looked upon the hill both far and near, I stood in various thoughts and fancies lost, And what this place might be I then inquired. The shepherd stopped, and that same story told Which in my former rhyme I have rehearsed. १९ A jolly place," said he, "in times of old! But something ails it now: the spot is curst. 120 "You see these lifeless stumps of aspen wood 125 Some say that they are beeches, others elms These were the bower; and here a mansion stood, "The arbour does its own condition tell; You see the stones, the fountain, and the stream; 130 But as to the great Lodge! you might as well There's neither dog nor heifer, horse nor sheep, Will wet his lips within that cup of stone; And oftentimes, when all are fast asleep, 135 This water doth send forth a dolorous groan. Some say that here a murder has been done, ee And blood cries out for blood: but, for my part, "What thoughts must through the creature's brain have passed! Even from the topmost stone, upon the steep, Are but three bounds and look, Sir, at this last O Master! it has been a cruel leap. 140 "For thirteen hours he ran a desperate race; And in my simple mind we cannot tell What cause the Hart might have to love this place, "Here on the grass perhaps asleep he sank, "In April here beneath the flowering thorn "Now, here is neither grass nor pleasant shade ; 145 150 155 Till trees, and stones, and fountain, all are gone.” 160 "Grey-headed Shepherd, thou hast spoken well; Small difference lies between thy creed and mine : This Beast not unobserved by Nature fell; His death was mourned by sympathy divine. ee The Being, that is in the clouds and air, "The pleasure-house is dust: - behind, before, 165 170 She leaves these objects to a slow decay, That what we are, and have been, may be known ; These monuments shall all be overgrown. ee One lesson, Shepherd, let us two divide, Taught both by what she shows, and what conceals; With sorrow of the meanest thing that feels." 175 180 1800. ee THE BROTHERS. THESE Tourists, heaven preserve us! needs must live Why can he tarry yonder? In our church-yard Tombstone nor name only the turf we tread And a few natural graves." Thus spake the homely priest of Ennerdale. |