Ere thrice the moon into her port had steered, And built a house of pleasure in the dell. And near the fountain flowers of stature tall And thither, when the summer days were long, The knight, Sir Walter, died in course of time, PART SECOND. The moving accident is not my trade ; To pipe a simple song for thinking hearts. As I from Hawes to Richmond did repair, What this imported I could ill divine; And, pulling now the rein my horse to stop, 100 90 The trees were gray, with neither arms nor head, 'Here in old time the hand of man hath been.' I looked upon the hill both far and near, I stood in various thoughts and faucies 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. 'A jolly place,' said he, 'in times of old! But something ails it now; the spot is curst. 'You see these lifeless stumps of aspen wood- '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 Hunt half a day for a forgotten dream. 'There's neither dog nor heifer, horse nor sheep, This water doth send forth a dolorous groan. 'Some say that here a murder has been done, And blood cries out for blood; but, for my part, I've guessed, when I've been sitting in the sun, That it was all for that unhappy hart. 140 '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! 'For thirteen hours he ran a desperate race; What cause the hart might have to love this place, 'Here on the grass perhaps asleep he sank, Lulled by the fountain in the summer-tide; This water was perhaps the first he drank When he had wandered from his mother's side. 'In April here beneath the scented thorn He heard the birds their morning carols sing; And he, perhaps, for aught we know, was born Not half a furlong from that selfsame spring. 'Now, here is neither grass nor pleasant shade, The sun on drearier hollow never shone; So will it be, as I have often said, Till trees and stones and fountain all are gone.' 'Gray-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. 150 160 'The Being that is in the clouds and air, That is in the green leaves among the groves, Maintains a deep and reverential care For the unoffending creatures whom he loves. 'The pleasure-house is dust-behind, before, This is no common waste, no common gloom; 170 But Nature, in due course of time, once more Shall here put on her beauty and her bloom. 'She leaves these objects to a slow decay, That what we are and have been may be known; But, at the coming of the milder day, These monuments shall all be overgrown. 'One lesson, shepherd, let us two divide, Taught both by what she shows and what concealsNever to blend our pleasure or our pride With sorrow of the meanest thing that feels.' 180 THE SPARROW'S NEST. BEHOLD, within the leafy shade, The home and sheltered bed, The sparrow's dwelling, which, hard by Together visited. ΤΟ She looked at it and seemed to fear it, Was with me when a boy: She gave me eyes, she gave me ears; TO A BUTTERFLY. STAY near me-do not take thy flight! Much converse do I find in thee, Historian of my infancy! Float near me; do not yet depart! Dead times revive in thee: Thou bring'st, gay creature as thou art, My father's family! O, pleasant, pleasant were the days, The time when in our childish plays Together chased the butterfly! A very hunter did I rush Upon the prey:-with leaps and springs I followed on from brake to bush ; But she, God love her, feared to brush The dust from off its wings! 20 10 |