Part 27

"On a bright day--so calm and bright, it seemed[JF] To us, with our sad spirits, heavenly-fair-- 696 These mountains echoed to an unknown sound;[700] A volley, thrice repeated o'er the Corse Let down into the hollow of that grave, Whose shelving sides are red with naked mould. 700 Ye rains of April, duly wet this earth! Spare, burning sun of midsummer, these sods, That they may knit together, and therewith Our thoughts unite in kindred quietness! Nor so the Valley shall forget her loss. 705 Dear Youth, by young and old alike beloved,[JG] To me as precious as my own!--Green herbs May creep (I wish that they would softly creep) Over thy last abode, and we may pass Reminded less imperiously of thee;-- 710 The ridge itself may sink into the breast Of earth, the great abyss, and be no more; Yet shall not thy remembrance leave our hearts, Thy image disappear! "The Mountain-ash No eye can overlook, when 'mid a grove 715 Of yet unfaded trees she lifts her head Decked[701] with autumnal berries, that outshine Spring's richest blossoms; and ye may have marked,[702] By a brook-side or solitary tarn, How she her station doth adorn: the pool 720 Glows at her feet, and all the gloomy rocks Are brightened round her. In his native vale Such and so glorious did this Youth appear; A sight that kindled pleasure in all hearts By his ingenuous beauty, by the gleam 725 Of his fair eyes, by his capacious brow, By all the graces with which nature's hand Had lavishly[703] arrayed him. As old bards Tell in their idle songs of wandering gods, Pan or Apollo, veiled in human form: 730 Yet, like the sweet-breathed violet of the shade Discovered in their own despite to sense Of mortals (if such fables without blame May find chance-mention on this sacred ground) So, through a simple rustic garb's disguise, 735 And through the impediment of rural cares, In him revealed a scholar's genius shone; And so, not wholly hidden from men's sight, In him the spirit of a hero walked Our unpretending valley.--How the quoit 740 Whizzed from the Stripling's arm! If touched by him, The inglorious foot-ball mounted to the pitch Of the lark's flight,--or shaped a rainbow curve, Aloft, in prospect of the shouting field! The indefatigable fox had learned 745 To dread his perseverance in the chase.[704] With admiration would he lift[705] his eyes To the wide-ruling eagle, and his hand Was loth to assault the majesty he loved: Else had the strongest fastnesses proved weak 750 To guard the royal brood. The sailing glead, The wheeling swallow, and the darting snipe; The sportive sea-gull dancing with the waves, And cautious water-fowl, from distant climes, Fixed at their seat, the centre of the Mere, 755 Were subject to young Oswald's steady aim, And lived by his forbearance. "From the coast Of France a boastful Tyrant hurled his threats;[706][JH] Our Country marked the preparation vast[707] Of hostile forces; and she called--with voice 760 That filled her plains, that[708] reached her utmost shores, And in remotest vales was heard--to arms! --Then, for the first time, here you might have seen The shepherd's grey to martial scarlet changed, That flashed uncouthly through the woods and fields. 765 Ten hardy Striplings, all in bright attire, And graced with shining weapons, weekly marched, From this lone valley, to a central spot Where, in assemblage with the flower and choice Of the surrounding district, they might learn 770 The rudiments of war; ten--hardy, strong, And valiant; but young Oswald, like a chief And yet a modest comrade, led them forth From their shy solitude, to face the world, With a gay confidence and seemly pride; 775 Measuring the soil beneath their happy feet Like Youths released from labour, and yet bound To most laborious service, though to them A festival of unencumbered ease; The inner spirit keeping holiday, 780 Like vernal ground to sabbath sunshine left.

"Oft have I marked him, at some leisure hour, Stretched on the grass, or seated in the shade, Among his fellows, while an ample map Before their eyes lay carefully outspread, 785 From which the gallant teacher would discourse, Now pointing this way, and now that.--'Here flows,' Thus would he say, 'The Rhine, that famous stream! 'Eastward, the Danube toward[709] this inland sea, 'A mightier river, winds from realm to realm; 790 'And, like a serpent, shows his glittering back 'Bespotted--with innumerable isles: 'Here reigns the Russian, there the Turk; observe 'His capital city!' Thence, along a tract Of livelier interest to his hopes and fears, 795 His finger moved, distinguishing the spots Where wide-spread conflict then most fiercely raged; Nor left unstigmatized those fatal fields On which the sons of mighty Germany Were taught a base submission.--'Here behold 800 'A nobler race, the Switzers, and their land, 'Vales deeper far than these of ours, huge woods, 'And mountains white with everlasting snow!' --And, surely, he, that spake with kindling brow, Was a true patriot, hopeful as the best 805 Of that young peasantry, who, in our days, Have fought and perished for Helvetia's rights-- Ah, not in vain!--or those who, in old time, For work of happier issue, to the side Of Tell came trooping from a thousand huts, 810 When he had risen alone![JI] No braver Youth Descended from Judean[710] heights, to march With righteous Joshua;[JJ] nor[711] appeared in arms When grove was felled, and altar was cast down, And Gideon blew the trumpet, soul-inflamed, 815 And strong in hatred of idolatry."

The Pastor, even as if by these last words Raised from his seat within the chosen shade, Moved towards the grave;--instinctively his steps We followed; and my voice with joy exclaimed:[712] 820 "Power to the Oppressors of the world is given, A might of which they dream not. Oh! the curse, To be the awakener of divinest thoughts, Father and founder of exalted deeds; And, to whole nations bound in servile straits, 825 The liberal donor of capacities More than heroic! this to be, nor yet Have sense of one connatural wish, nor yet Deserve the least return of human thanks; Winning no recompense but deadly hate 830 With pity mixed, astonishment with scorn!"

When this involuntary strain had ceased,[713] The Pastor said: "So Providence is served; The forkèd weapon of the skies can send Illumination into deep, dark holds, 835 Which the mild sunbeam hath not power to pierce. Ye Thrones that have defied remorse, and cast Pity away, soon shall ye quake with _fear!_[714] For, not unconscious of the mighty debt Which to outrageous wrong the sufferer owes, 840 Europe, through all her habitable bounds,[715] Is thirsting for their overthrow, who yet Survive, as pagan temples stood of yore, By horror of their impious rites, preserved; Are still permitted to extend their pride,[716] 845 Like cedars on the top of Lebanon Darkening the sun. "But less impatient thoughts, And love 'all hoping and expecting all,'[JK] This hallowed grave demands, where rests in peace A humble champion of the better cause; 850 A Peasant-youth, so call him, for he asked No higher name; in whom our country showed, As in a favourite son, most beautiful. In spite of vice, and misery, and disease, Spread with the spreading of her wealthy arts, 855 England, the ancient and the free, appeared In him to stand before my swimming eyes, Unconquerably virtuous and secure. --No more of this, lest I offend his dust: Short was his life, and a brief tale remains. 860

"One day--a summer's day of annual pomp[717] And solemn chase--from morn to sultry noon His steps had followed, fleetest of the fleet, The red-deer driven along its native heights With cry of hound and horn; and, from that toil 865 Returned with sinews weakened and relaxed, This generous Youth, too negligent of self, Plunged--'mid a gay and busy throng convened To wash the fleeces of his Father's flock-- Into the chilling flood. Convulsions dire[718] 870 Seized him, that self-same night; and through the space Of twelve ensuing days his frame was wrenched, Till nature rested from her work in death. To him, thus snatched away, his comrades paid A soldier's honours. At his funeral hour 875 Bright was the sun, the sky a cloudless blue-- A golden lustre slept upon the hills; And if by chance a stranger, wandering there, From some commanding eminence had looked Down on this spot, well pleased would he have seen 880 A glittering spectacle; but every face Was pallid: seldom hath that eye been moist With tears, that wept not then; nor were the few, Who from their dwellings came not forth to join In this sad service, less disturbed than we. 885 They started at the tributary peal Of instantaneous thunder, which announced, Through the still air, the closing of the Grave; And distant mountains echoed with a sound Of lamentation, never heard before!" 890

The Pastor ceased.--My venerable Friend Victoriously upraised his clear bright eye; And, when that eulogy was ended, stood Enrapt, as if his inward sense perceived The prolongation of some still response, 895 Sent by the ancient Soul of this wide land, The Spirit of its mountains and its seas, Its cities, temples, fields, its awful power, Its rights and virtues--by that Deity Descending, and supporting his pure heart 900 With patriotic confidence and joy. And, at the last of those memorial words, The pining Solitary turned aside; Whether through manly instinct to conceal Tender emotions spreading from the heart 905 To his worn cheek; or with uneasy shame For those cold humours of habitual spleen That,[719] fondly seeking in dispraise of man Solace and self-excuse, had sometimes urged To self-abuse a not ineloquent tongue. 910 --Right toward[720] the sacred Edifice his steps Had been directed; and we saw him now Intent upon a monumental stone, Whose uncouth form was grafted on the wall, Or rather seemed to have grown into the side 915 Of the rude pile; as oft-times trunks of trees, Where nature works in wild and craggy spots, Are seen incorporate with the living rock-- To endure for aye. The Vicar, taking note Of his employment, with a courteous smile 920 Exclaimed-- "The sagest Antiquarian's eye That task would foil;" then, letting fall his voice While he advanced, thus spake: "Tradition tells[721] That, in Eliza's golden days,[JL] a Knight Came on a war-horse[JM] sumptuously attired, 925 And fixed his home in this sequestered vale. 'Tis left untold if here he first drew breath, Or as a stranger reached this deep recess, Unknowing and unknown. A pleasing thought I sometimes entertain, that haply bound 930 To Scotland's court in service of his Queen, Or sent on mission to some northern Chief Of England's realm, this vale he might have seen With transient observation; and thence caught An image fair, which, brightening in his soul 935 When joy of war and pride of chivalry Languished beneath accumulated years,[722] Had power to draw him from the world, resolved To make that paradise his chosen home To which his peaceful fancy oft had turned. 940

"Vague thoughts are these; but, if belief may rest Upon unwritten story fondly traced From sire to son, in this obscure retreat The Knight arrived, with spear and shield, and borne Upon a Charger gorgeously bedecked 945 With broidered housings.[723] And the lofty Steed--[JN] His sole companion, and his faithful friend, Whom he, in gratitude, let loose to range In fertile pastures--was beheld with eyes Of admiration and delightful awe, 950 By those untravelled Dalesmen. With less pride, Yet free from touch of envious discontent, They saw a mansion at his bidding rise, Like a bright star, amid the lowly band 954 Of their rude homesteads. Here the Warrior dwelt; And, in that mansion, children of his own, Or kindred, gathered round him. As a tree That falls and disappears, the house is gone;[JO] And, through improvidence or want of love For ancient worth and honourable things, 960 The spear and shield are vanished, which the Knight Hung in his rustic hall. One ivied arch Myself have seen, a gateway,[JO] last remains Of that foundation in domestic care Raised by his hands. And now no trace is left 965 Of the mild-hearted Champion, save this stone, Faithless memorial! and his family name Borne by yon clustering cottages, that sprang From out the ruins of his stately lodge: These, and the name and title at full length,-- 970 Sir Alfred Irthing , with appropriate words Accompanied, still extant, in a wreath Or posy, girding round the several fronts Of three clear-sounding and harmonious bells, That in the steeple hang, his pious gift."[JP] 975

"So fails, so languishes, grows dim, and dies," The grey-haired Wanderer pensively exclaimed, "All that this world is proud of. From their spheres The stars of human glory are cast down; Perish the roses and the flowers of kings,[JQ] 980 Princes, and emperors, and the crowns and palms Of all the mighty, withered and consumed! Nor is power given to lowliest innocence Long to protect her own. The man himself Departs; and soon is spent the line of those 985 Who, in the bodily image, in the mind, In heart or soul, in station or pursuit, Did most resemble him. Degrees and ranks, Fraternities and orders--heaping high New wealth upon the burthen of the old, 990 And placing trust in privilege confirmed And re-confirmed--are scoffed at with a smile Of greedy foretaste, from the secret stand Of Desolation, aimed: to slow decline These yield, and these to sudden overthrow: 995 Their virtue, service, happiness, and state Expire; and nature's pleasant robe of green, Humanity's appointed shroud, enwraps Their monuments and their memory. The vast Frame Of social nature changes evermore 1000 Her organs and her members with decay Restless, and restless generation, powers And functions dying and produced at need,-- And by this law the mighty whole subsists: With an ascent and progress in the main; 1005 Yet, oh! how disproportioned to the hopes And expectations of self-flattering minds!

"The courteous Knight, whose bones are here interred, Lived in an age conspicuous as our own For strife and ferment in the minds of men; 1010 Whence alteration in the forms of things, Various and vast. A memorable age! Which did to him assign a pensive lot-- To linger 'mid the last of those bright clouds That, on the steady breeze of honour, sailed 1015 In long procession calm and beautiful. He who had seen his own bright order fade, And its devotion gradually decline, (While war, relinquishing the lance and shield, Her temper changed, and bowed to other laws) 1020 Had also witnessed, in his morn of life, That violent commotion, which o'erthrew, In town and city and sequestered glen, Altar, and cross, and church of solemn roof, And old religious house--pile after pile; 1025 And shook their[724] tenants out into the fields, Like wild beasts without home! Their hour was come; But why no softening thought of gratitude, No just remembrance, scruple, or wise doubt? Benevolence is mild; nor borrows help, 1030 Save at worst need, from bold impetuous force, Fitliest allied to anger and revenge. But Human-kind rejoices in the might Of mutability; and airy hopes, Dancing around her, hinder and disturb 1035 Those meditations of the soul that[725] feed The retrospective virtues. Festive songs Break from the maddened nations at the sight Of sudden overthrow; and cold neglect Is the sure consequence of slow decay. 1040

"Even," said the Wanderer, "as that courteous Knight, Bound by his vow to labour for redress Of all who suffer wrong, and to enact By sword and lance the law of gentleness, (If I may venture of myself to speak, 1045 Trusting that not incongruously I blend Low things with lofty) I too shall be doomed To outlive the kindly use and fair esteem Of the poor calling which my youth embraced With no unworthy prospect. But enough; 1050 --Thoughts crowd upon me--and 'twere seemlier now To stop, and yield our gracious Teacher thanks For the pathetic records which his voice Hath here delivered; words of heartfelt truth, Tending to patience when affliction strikes; 1055 To hope and love; to confident repose In God; and reverence for the dust of Man."

VARIANTS:

[Footnote 627: 1836.

_his patriotic enthusiasm--distinguished qualities--and_ 1814. ]

[Footnote 628: 1827.

... craggy top, 1814. ]

[Footnote 629: 1836.

Upon ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 630: 1827.

... that lie apart, Unsociable company and sad; And, furthermore, appearing to encroach 1814. ]

[Footnote 631: 1827.

... follow with your eyes The length of road which ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 632: 1827.

... among ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 633: 1836.

Towards ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 634: 1814.

Be crossed, and into those secluded vales C. ]

[Footnote 635: 1832.

... tow'rds ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 636: 1827.

Which told that 'twas ... 1814.

Gay offering from ... MS. ]

[Footnote 637: 1836.

... beneath the green-wood Tree? Or are they Strollers, ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 638: 1827.

Had frolicked many a year; a simple Clerk By hopes of coming patronage beguiled And vexed, until the weary heart grew sick. And so, abandoning each higher aim And all his shewy Friends, at length he turned 1814.

Had frolicked many a year; a simple Clerk Beguiled by hopes of coming patronage Till the heart sicken'd so each loftier aim Abandoning, and all his showy Friends He turned to this sequester'd Chapelry; Kindly presented to his doubtful choice MS. ]

[Footnote 639: 1836.

For a life's stay, though slender yet assured, To this remote and humble Chapelry; Which ... 1814.

For a life's stay, though slender yet assured, He turned to this secluded Chapelry, That ... 1827. ]

[Footnote 640: 1836.

With which the scantily-provided Cure Not long had been endowed: and far remote The Chapel stood, divided from that House By an unpeopled tract of mountain waste. 1814. ]

[Footnote 641: 1827.

... compelled, Month after month, in that obscure Abode To rise ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 642: 1827.

Or these ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 643: 1827.

Contentedly, to take a temperate meal At his own board, ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 644: 1836.

With acceptable treat ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 645: 1845.

... on ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 646:

... that ... MS. ]

[Footnote 647: 1827.

... festive ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 648: 1836.

These ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 649: 1836.

... upon its ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 650: 1836.

... growth 1814. ]

[Footnote 651: 1827.

... and ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 652: 1836.

--These ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 653: 1827.

As I have seen it, ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 654: 1827.

Which ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 655: 1827.

Which ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 656: 1827.

Without distinction falling ... 1814. ]

[Footnote 657: The following lines occur only in the editions of 1814 and 1820.

--Yoke-fellows were they long and well approved To endure and to perform. With frugal pains, Yet in a course of generous discipline, Did this poor Churchman and his Consort rear Their progeny.--Of three--sent forth to try The paths of fortune in the open world, One, not endowed with firmness to resist The suit of pleasure, to his native Vale Returned, and humbly tilled his Father's glebe. --The youngest Daughter, too, in duty stayed To lighten her declining Mother's care. But, ere the bloom was passed away which health Preserved to adorn a cheek no longer young, Her heart, in course of nature, finding place For new affections, to the holy state Of wedlock they conducted her; but still The Bride adhering to those filial cares Dwelt with her Mate beneath her Father's roof.

... discipline Their progeny was reared.--Of three that tried MS.