My whole life I have lived in pleasant thought, 40 Love him, who for himself will take no heed at all? I thought of Chatterton, the marvellous Boy, The sleepless Soul that perished in his pride; We Poets in our youth begin in gladness: But thereof come in the end despondency and madness. Now, whether it were by peculiar grace, A leading from above, a something given, When I with these untoward thoughts had striven, I saw a Man before me unawares : The oldest man he seemed that ever wore gray hairs. As a huge stone is sometimes seen to lie Couched on the bald top of an eminence ; Wonder to all who do the same espy, By what means it could thither come, and whence; So that it seems a thing endued with sense, Like a sea-beast crawled forth, that on a shelf 50 60 Such seemed this Man, not all alive nor dead, A more than human weight upon his frame had cast. 70 Himself he propped, limbs, body, and pale face, Upon a long gray staff of shaven wood; At length, himself unsettling, he the pond "This morning gives us promise of a glorious day." A gentle answer did the old Man make, In courteous speech which forth he slowly drew; 80 90 His words came feebly, from a feeble chest, Choice word and measured phrase, above the reach Such as grave Livers do in Scotland use, Religious men, who give to God and man their dues. He told, that to these waters he had come 100 From pond to pond he roamed, from moor to moor; Housing, with God's good help, by choice or chance; And in this way he gained an honest maintenance. The old Man still stood talking by my side; To give me human strength, by apt admonishment. My former thoughts returned: the fear that kills; And hope that is unwilling to be fed; Cold, pain, and labor, and all fleshly ills; And mighty Poets in their misery dead. - Perplexed, and longing to be comforted, My question eagerly did I renew, "How is it that you live, and what is it He with a smile did then his words repeat; While he was talking thus, the lonely place, all troubled me: In my mind's eye I seemed to see him pace 120 About the weary moors continually, Wandering about alone and silently. While I these thoughts within myself pursued, He, having made a pause, the same discourse renewed. And soon with this he other matter blended, "God," said I, "be my help and stay secure; 130 I'll think of the Leech-gatherer on the lonely moor!" 140 A FAREWELL. 1802. - 1815. FAREWELL, thou little Nook of mountain-ground, Of that magnificent temple which doth bound The loveliest spot that man hath ever found, Farewell! we leave thee to Heaven's peaceful care, Thee, and the Cottage which thou dost surround. Our boat is safely anchored by the shore, Sunshine and shower be with you, bud and bell! Thou, like the morning, in thy saffron coat, ΙΟ 20 |