And till these three weeks past the land was free.
-It looks as if it never could endure

Another Master. Heaven forgive me, Luke,

If I judge ill for thee, but it seems good

That thou shouldst go." At this the Old Man paus'd;
Then, pointing to the Stones near which they stood,
Thus, after a short silence, he resumed:

"This was a work for us; and now, my Son,
It is a work for me. But, lay one Stone-
Here, lay it for me, Luke, with thine own hands.
Nay, Boy, be of good hope:-we both may live
To see a better day. At eighty-four

I still am strong and stout ;-do thou thy part,
I will do mine.-I will begin again

With many tasks that were resigned to thee;
Up to the heights, and in among the storms,
Will I without thee go again, and do

All works which I was wont to do alone,

Before I knew thy face. Heaven bless thee, Boy!

Thy heart these two weeks has been beating fast
With many hopes-It should be so-Yes-yes-

I knew that thou couldst never have a wish

To leave me, Luke: thou hast been bound to me

Only by links of love: when thou art gone,

What will be left to us!-But, I forget
My purposes. Lay now the corner-stone,
As I requested; and hereafter, Luke,

When thou art gone away, should evil men
Be thy companions, think of me, my Son,
And of this moment; hither turn thy thoughts,
And God will strengthen thee: amid all fear
And all temptation, Luke, I pray that thou
Mayst bear in mind the life thy Fathers lived,
Who, being innocent, did for that cause

Bestir them in good deeds. Now, fare thee well—
When thou return'st, thou in this place wilt see

A work which is not here: a covenant

"Twill 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

The first stone of the Sheep-fold. At the sight

The Old Man's grief broke from him, to his heart

He press'd his Son, he kissed 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
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.

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.'
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

He to that valley took his way, and there
Wrought at the Sheep-fold. Meantime Luke began
To slacken in his duty; and at length

He in the dissolute city gave himself

To evil courses: ignominy and shame

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;

"Twill make a thing endurable, which else
Would break the heart:-Old Michael found it so.

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 upon the sun,
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. "Tis not forgotten yet
The pity which was then in every heart
For the Old Man-and 'tis believed by all
That many and many a day he thither went,

And never lifted up a single stone.

There, by the Sheep-fold, sometimes was he seen Sitting alone, with that his faithful Dog,

Then old, beside him, lying at his feet.

The length of full seven years from time to time
He at the building of this Sheep-fold 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
Of the unfinished Sheep-fold may be seen

Beside the boisterous brook of Green-head Ghyll.