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The old house-clock is decked with a new He had as white a head and fresh a cheek face;

(dates As ever were produced by youth and age And hence, so far from wanting facts or Engendering in the blood of hale fourscore. To chronicle the time, we all have here Through five long generations had the heart A pair of diaries, -one serving, sir, Of Walter's forefathers o'erflowed the For the whole dale, and one for each fire- bounds side

(historians, Of their inheritance, that single cottageYours was a stranger's judgment: for You see it yonder!-and those few green Commend me to these valleys!


(to son, Leonard.

Yet your church-yard They toiled and wrought, and still, from sire Seems, if such freedom may be used with Each struggled, and each yielded as before you,

A little -yet a little--and old Walter, To say that you are heedless of the past: They left to him the family heart, and land An orphan could not find his mother's With other burthens than the crop it bore. grave:

(of brass, Year after year the old man still kept up Here's neither head nor footstone, plate A cheerful mind, -and buffeted with bond, Cross-bones nor skull, -type of our earthly Interest, and mortgages : at last he sank,

(home And went into his grave before his time. Nor emblem of our hopes: the dead man's Poor Walter ! whether it was care that Is but a fellow to that pasture-field.

spurred him Priest. Why, there, sir, is a thought God only knows, but to the very last

that's new to me! (their bread | He had the lightest foot in Ennerdale : The stone-cutters, 'tis true, might beg | His pace was never that of an old man : If every English church-yard were like I almost see him tripping down the path ours;

[truth: With his two grandsons after him:-but you, Yet your conclusion wanders from the Unless our lardlord be your host to-night, We have no need of names and epitaphs; Have far to travel, -and on these rough We talk about the dead by our fire-sides. paths And then, for our immortal part! we want Even in the longest day of midsummerNo symbols, sir, to tell us that plain tale: Leonard, But those two orphans ! The thought of death sits easy on the man Priest. Orphans !--Such they were Who has been born and dies among the Yet not while Walter lived :-for, though mountains.

their parents Leonard. Your dalesmen, then, do in Lay buried side by side as now they lie, each other's thoughts

The old man was a father to the boys, Possess a kind of second life: no doubt Two fathers in one father : and if tears, You, sir, could help me to the history Shed when he talked of them where they Of half these graves ?

were not, Priest. For eight-score winters past, And hauntings from the infirmity of love, With what I've witnessed, and with what Are aught of what makes up a mother's I've heard,

heart, Perhaps I might; and, on a winter-evening, This old man, in the day of his old age, If you were seated at my chimney's nook, Was half a mother to them.-If you weep, By turning o'er these hillocks one by one, sir, We two could travel, sir, through a strange to hear a stranger talking about strangers, round;

Heaven bless you when you are among Yet all in the broad highway of the world. your kindred ! Now there's a grave—your foot is half upon Ay-you may turn that way—it is a grave it,

Which will bear looking at. It looks just like the rest, and yet that man Leonard.

These boys—I hope Died broken-hearted.

They loved this good old man? Leonard. "Tis a common case. Priest.

They did—and truly : We'll take another: who is he that lies But that was what we almost overlooked, Beneath yon ridge, the last of those three They were such darlings of each other. For, graves ?

Though from their cradles they had lived It touches on that piece of native rock

with Walter, Left in the church-yard wall.

The only kinsman nearthem, and though he Priest

That's Walter Ewbank. I Inclined to them by reason of his age,

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With a more fond, familiar tenderness ;
They, not withstanding, had much love to And what, for my part I have often prayed:

In this our valley all of us have wished, And it all went into each other's hearts.


Leonard. Then James still is left among Leonard, the elder by just eighteen months, Priest. 'Tis of the elder brother I am Was two years taller : 'twas a joy to see, speaking : the school

A thriving man, and trafficked on the seas: Is distant three short miles—and in the time And, but for that same uncle, to this hour Of storm and thaw, when every water-course Leonard had never handled rope or shroud, And unbridged stream, such as you may | For the boy loved the life which we lead have noticed

here; Crossing our roads at every hundred steps, And though of unripe years, a siripling only, Was swoln into a noisy rivulet,

His soul was knit to this his native soil. Would Leonard then, when elder boys But, as I said, old Walter was too weak perhaps

[the fords To strive with such a torrent; when he died, Remained at home, go staggering through The estate and house were sold ; and all Bearing his brother on his back. I've seen their sheep,

(know, him,

A pretty flock, and which, for aught I On windy days, in one of those stray brooks, Had clothed the Ewbanks for a thousand Ay, more than once I've seen him mid-leg years :deep,

Well-all was gone, and they weredestitute, Their two books lying both on a dry stone And Leonard, chiefly for his brother's sake, Upon the hither side: and once I said, Resolved to try his fortune on the seas. As I remember, looking round these rocks Twelve years are passed since we had And hills on which we all of us were born, tidings from him. That God who made the great book of the If there were one among us who had heard world

That Leonard Ewbank was come home Would bless such piety


| banks, Leonard

It may be then- From the great Gavel, * down by Leeza's Priest. Never did worthier lads break And down the Enna, far as Egremont, English bread ;

The day would be a very festival : The finest Sunday that the autumn saw, And those two bells of ours, which there With all its mealy clusters of ripe nuts,

you seeCould never keep these boys away from Hanging in the open air—but, O good sir!

This is sad talk-they'll never sound for Ortempt them to an hour of Sabbath breach. him

[him Leonard and James! I warrant every corner Living or dead. ---When last we heard of Among these rocks, and every hollow place He was in slavery among the Moors Where foot could come, to one or both of Upon the Barbary coast.—'Twas not a them [grow there. little

[doubt, Was known as well as to the Howers that That would bring down his spirit ; and no Like roebucks they went bounding o'er Before it ended in his death, the youth

(the crags : Was sadly crossed - Poor Leonard ! when They played like two young ravens on we parted, Then they could write, ay, and speak too, He took me by the hand, and said to me, as well

If ever the day came when he was rich, As many of their betters—and for Leonard! He would return, and on his father's land The very night before he went away, He would grow old among us. In my own house I put into his hand A Bible, and I'd wager house and field • The Great Gavel, so called, I imagine, from That if he is alive, he has it yet.

its resemblance to the gable end of a house, is Leonard. It seems these brothers have one of the highest of the Cumberland moun

not lived to be A comfort to each other

The Leeza is a river which flows into the Priest.

Lake of Ennerdale : on issuing from the Lake,

That they might it changes its name, and is called the End, Evne, Live to such end is what both old and or Enna. It falls into the sea a little below young



the hills;



ere noon


If that day Whence by our shepherds it is called THE Should come, ':would needs be a glad day PILLAR. for him ;

Upon its aëry summit crowned with heath, He would himself, no doubt, be happy then The loiterer, not unnoticed by his comrades, As any that should meet him

Lay stretched at ease; but, passing by the Priest.

Happy! Sir- place Leonard. You said his kindred all were on their return, they found that he was gone. in their graves,

No ill was feared ; but one of them by And that he had one brother

chance Priest.

That is but Entering, when evening was far spent, the A fellow tale of sorrow. From his youth house

(learned James, though not sickly, yet was delicate; Which at that time was James's home, there And Leonard being always by his side That nobody had seen him all that day : Had done so many offices about him, The morning came, and still he was unThat, though he was not of a timid nature, heard of:

(brook Yet still the spirit of a mountain-boy The neighbours were alarmed, and to the In him was somewhat checked ; and when Some hastened, some towards the lake : bis brother

(rockWas gone to sea, and he was left alone, They found him at the foot of that same The little colour that he had was soon Dead, and with mangled limbs. The third Stolen from his cheek; he drooped, and day after pined, and pined

I buried him, poor youth, and there he lies! Leonard. But these are all the graves of Leonard. And that then is his grave ! full-grown men !

Before his death Priest. Ay, sir, that passed away: we You say that he saw many happy years ? took him to us ;

Priest. Ay, that he did lle was the child of all the dale-he lived Leonard. And all went well with him? Three months with one and six inonths Priest. If he had one, the youth had with another;


twenty homes. And wanted neither food, nor clothes, nor Leonard. And you believe, then, that And many, many happy days were his. his mind was easy?But whether blithe or sad, 'tis my belief Priest. Yes, long before he died, he His absent brother still was at his heart.

found that time And, when he dwelt beneath our roof, we is a true friend to sorrow; and unless found

His thoughts were turned on Leonard's (A practice till this time unknown to him) luckless fortune, That osten, rising from his bed at night, He talked about him with a cheerful love. He in his sleep would walk about, and Leonard, He could not come to an unsleeping

[moved ! hallowed end ! lle sought his brother Leonard.--You are Priest. Nay, God forbid!—You recollect Forgive me, sir : before I spoke to you,

I mentioned 1 judged you most unkindly.

A habit which disquietude and grief Leonard.

But this youth, Had brought upon him; and we all conHow did he die at last ?


[down Priest. One sweet May morning. That, as the day was warm, he had lain (It will be twelve years since when spring | Upon the grass, -and waiting for his comreturns) (lambs, rades,

(sleep Ile had gone forth among the new-dropped He there had fallen asleep; that in his Hith two or three companions, whom He to the margin of the precipice their course

Had walked, and from the summit had Of occupation led from height to height fallen headlong. Under a cloudless sun, till he, at length, And so, no doubt, he perished : at the time, Through weariness, or, haply, to indulge We guess, that in his hands he must have The humour of the moment, lagged behind. held You see son precipice ;-it wears the shape His shepherd's staff; for midway in the cliff Of A vast building made of many crags; It had been caught; and there for many And in the midst is one particular rock

years That rises like a column from the vale, It hung, and mouldered there

The priest here ended- ! To fatal dissolution ; and, I ween, The stranger would have thanked him, but | No vestige

then was left that such had ever he felt

been. A gushing from his heart, that took away The power of speech. Both left the spot Nathless, a British record (long concealed in silence ;

(yard gate, in old Armorica, whose secret springs And Leonard, when they reached thechurch-i No Gothic conqueror ever drank) revealed As the priest listed up the latch, turned The wondrous current of forgotten things: round,

Brother !" How Brutus came, by oracles impelled, And looking at the grave, he said, “My And Albion's giants quelled, The vicar did not hear the words: and now, A brood whom no civility could melt, Pointing towards the cottage, he entreated “Who never tasted grace, and goodness That Leonard would partake his homely ne'er had felt." fare:

(voice; The other thanked him with a fervent By brave Corineus aided, he subdued, But added, that, the evening being calm. And rooted out the intolerable kind ; He would pursue his journey. So they And this too-long-polluted land imbued parted.

With goodly arts and usages refined ; It was not long ere Leonard reached a grove Whence golden harvests, cities, warlike That overhung the road : he there stopped towers, short,

(viewed And pleasure's sumptuous bowers, And, sitting down beneath the trees, re- Whence all the fixed delights of house and All that the priest had said : his early years home,

(that cannot roam. Were with him in his heart : his cherished Friendships that will not break, and love hopes,

before, And thoughts which had been his an hour O happy Britain ! region all too fair All pressed on him with such a weight; For self-delighting fancy to endure that now,

(seemed That silence only should inhabit there, This vale, where he had been so happy, Wild beasts, or uncouth savages impure ! A place in which he could not bear to live: But, intermingled with the generous seed, So he relinquished all his purposes.

Grew many a poisonous weed ? He travelled on to Egremont: and thence, Thus fares it still with all that takes its That night, he wrote a letter to the priest,


(breast of earth. Reminding him of what had passed between From human care, or grows upon the

them ; And adding, with a hope to be forgiven, That it was from the weakness of his heart. Hence, and how soon! that war of venHe had not dared to tell him who ile was. By Guendolen against her faithless lord ;

Till she, in jealous fury unassuaged, This done, he went on shipboard, and is Had slain his paramour with ruthless

sword : A seaman, a gray-headed mariner.

Then, into Severn hideously defiled,

She flung her blameless child, Sabrina, -vowing that the stream should bear


That name through every age, her hatred (SEE THE CHRONICLE OF GEOFFREY or

MONMOUTH, AND MILTON'S HISTORY So speaks the Chronicle, and tells of Lear OF ENGLAND.)

By his ungrateful daughters turned adrift.

Yé lightnings hear his voice !-they cannot WHERE be the temples which, in Britain's hear, Isle,

Nor can the winds restore his simple gist. For his paternal gods, the Trojan raised? But one there is, a child of nature incek, Gone like a morning dream, or like a pile Who comes her sire to seek ; Of clouds that in cerulean ether blazed ! | And he, recovering sense, upon her breast Ere Julius landed on her white-cliffed shore, ' Leans smilingly, and sinks into a perfect

They sank, delivered o'er

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There too we read of Spenser's fairy themes, Fair blew the wished-for wind-the voyage And those that Milton loved in youthful sped ; years;

He landed ; and, by many dangers scared, The sage enchanter Merlin'ssubtle schemes; “ Poorly provided, poorly followed," The feats of Arthur and his knightly peers; i To Calaterium's forest he repaired. Of Arthur,-who, to upper light restored How changed from him who, born to With that terrific sword

highest place, Which yet he wields in subterranean war, Had swayed the royal mace, Shall lift his country's fame above the volar Flattered and feared, despised yet deified, star!

In Troynovant, his seat by silver Thames's

side! What wonder, then, if in such ample field Of old tradition, one particular flower From that wild region where the crownless Doth seemingly in vain its fragrance yield, king And bloom unnoticed even to this late Lay in concealment with his scanty train, hour ?

Supporting life by water from the spring, Now, gentle Muses, your assistance grant, / And such chance food as outlaws can obWhile I this flower transplant

tain, Into a garden stored with poesy ;

Unto the few whom he esteems his friends Where flowers and herbs unite, and haply A messenger he sends ;

some weeds be, (mischief free! And from their secret loyalty requires That, wanting not wild grace, are from all Shelter and daily bread, --ihe amount of

his desires.


A KING more worthy of respect and love While he the issue waits, ai early morn Than wise Gorbonian, ruled not in his day; Wandering by stealth abroad, he chanced

to hear

(horn, And grateful Britain prospered far above All neighbouring countries through his A startling, outcry made by hound and righteous sway;

(good ;

From which the tusky boar hath fled in He poured rewards and honours on the

(plain, The oppressor he withstood;

And, scouring towards him o'er the grassy And while he served the gods with reve

Behold the hunter train ! rence due,

(and cities grew.

He bids his little company advance Field smiled, and temples rose, and towns With seeming unconcern and steady coun

tenance. He died, whom Artegal succeeds-his son; But how unworthy of such sire was he !

The royal Elidure, who leads the chase, A hopeful reign, auspiciously begun,

Hath checked his foaming courser-Can it Was darkened soon by foul iniquity.


[face, From crime to crime he mounted, till at Methinks that I should recognise that length

Though much disguised by long adversity! The nobles leagued their strength

He gazed, rejoicing, and again

he gazed, With a vexed people, and the tyrant chased;

Confounded and aniazedAnd, on the vacant throne, his worthier “ It is the king, my brother !" and, by brother placed.


[the ground.

Of his own voice confirmed, he leaps upon From realm to realm the humbled exile went,

| Long, strict, and tender was the embrace Suppliant for aid his kingdom to regain ; In many a court, and many a warrior's tent, Feebly returned by daunted Artegal ; He urged his persevering suit in vain. Whose natural affection doubts enslave, Him, in whose wretched heart ambition And apprehensions dark and criminal. failed,

Loth to restrain the moving interview, Dire poverty assailed ;

The attendant lords withdrew ; And, tired with slights which he no more And, while they stood upon the plain apart, could brook,

(look. Thus Elidure, by words, relieved his strug. Towards his native soil he cast a longing) gling heart:

he gave,

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