In silence Matthew lay, and eyed

The spring beneath the tree ;

And thus the dear old Man replied,

The grey-haired man of glee:

"No check, no stay, this Streamlet fears;

How merrily it goes!

'Twill murmur on a thousand years,

And flow as now it flows.

And here, on this delightful day,
I cannot choose but think
How oft, a vigorous man, I lay
Beside this fountain's brink.

My eyes are dim with childish tears,

My heart is idly stirred,

For the same sound is in my ears
Which in those days I heard.

Thus fares it still in our decay:

And yet the wiser mind

Mourns less for what age takes

Than what it leaves behind.

The blackbird amid leafy trees,

The lark above the hill,

away

Let loose their carols when they please, Are quiet when they will.

With Nature never do they wage
A foolish strife; they see

A happy youth, and their old age
Is beautiful and free:

But we are pressed by heavy laws;
And often, glad no more,
We wear a face of joy, because
We have been glad of yore.

If there be one who need bemoan

His kindred laid in earth,

The household hearts that were his own;

It is the man of mirth.

My days, my Friend, are almost gone,

My life has been approved,

And many love me; but by none

Am I enough beloved."

"Now both himself and me he wrongs,

The man who thus complains

I live and sing my idle songs

Upon these happy plains;

And, Matthew, for thy children dead

I'll be a son to thee!"

At this he grasped my hand, and said, "Alas! that cannot be."

We rose up from the fountain-side;

And down the smooth descent

Of the green sheep-track did we glide;
And through the wood we went ;

And, ere we came to Leonard's rock,
He sang those witty rhymes

About the crazy old church-clock,

And the bewildered chimes.

1799

In the School of

CIX

MATTHEW

is a tablet, on which are inscribed, in gilt letters, the Names of the several persons who have been School-masters there since the foundation of the School, with the time at which they entered upon and quitted their office. Opposite to one of those names the Author wrote the following lines.

IF Nature, for a favourite child,

In thee hath tempered so her clay,
That every hour thy heart runs wild,
Yet never once doth go astray,

Read o'er these lines; and then review
This tablet, that thus humbly rears

In such diversity of hue

Its history of two hundred years.

-When through this little wreck of fame,
Cipher and syllable! thine eye

Has travelled down to Matthew's name,
Pause with no common sympathy.

And, if a sleeping tear should wake,
Then be it neither checked nor stayed
For Matthew a request I make
Which for himself he had not made.

Poor Matthew, all his frolics o'er,
Is silent as a standing pool;
Far from the chimney's merry roar,
And murmur of the village school.

:

The sighs which Matthew heaved were sighs
Of one tired out with fun and madness;
The tears which came to Matthew's eyes
Were tears of light, the dew of gladness.

Yet, sometimes, when the secret cup
Of still and serious thought went round,
It seemed as if he drank it up-
He felt with spirit so profound.

-Thou soul of God's best earthly mould!
Thou happy Soul! and can it be
That these two words of glittering gold
Are all that must remain of thee?

CX

THE AFFLICTION OF MARGARET

I

WHERE art thou, my beloved Son,

Where art thou, worse to me than dead?
Oh find me, prosperous or undone !
Or, if the grave be now thy bed,
Why am I ignorant of the same
That I may rest; and neither blame
Nor sorrow may attend thy name?

II

Seven years, alas! to have received
No tidings of an only child ;

To have despaired, have hoped, believed,
And been for evermore beguiled;
Sometimes with thoughts of very bliss!

I catch at them, and then I miss ;
Was ever darkness like to this?

III

He was among the prime in worth,
An object beauteous to behold;