His thrift thy uselessness will never scorn;
An heir-loom in his cottage wilt Thou be:-
High will he hang thee up, well pleased to adorn
His rustic chimney with the last of Thee!

1806

30

XVI

A NIGHT THOUGHT

O! where the Moon along the sky
Sails with her happy destiny;

Oft is she hid from mortal eye
Or dimly seen,

But when the clouds asunder fly
How bright her mien!

Far different we-a froward race,
Thousands though rich in Fortune's grace
With cherished sullenness of pace
Their way pursue,

Ingrates who wear a smileless face
The whole year through.

CHARACTERISTIC OF A FAVOURITE DOG

N his morning rounds the Master
Goes to learn how all things fare;

ON

Searches pasture after pasture,
Sheep and cattle eyes with care
And, for silence or for talk,

He hath comrades in his walk;

Four dogs, each pair of different breed,

Distinguished two for scent, and two for speed.

ΤΟ

See a hare before him started!
-Off they fly in earnest chase;
Every dog is eager-hearted,
All the four are in the race:
And the hare whom they pursue,
Knows from instinct what to do;

Her hope is near: no turn she makes ;
But, like an arrow, to the river takes.

Deep the river was, and crusted
Thinly by a one night's frost ;
But the nimble Hare hath trusted

To the ice, and safely crost;

She hath crost, and without heed

All are following at full speed,

When, lo! the ice, so thinly spread,

Breaks-and the greyhound, DART, is overhead!

Better fate have PRINCE and SWALLOW

See them cleaving to the sport!

MUSIC has no heart to follow,

Little MUSIC, she stops short.
She hath neither wish nor heart,

Hers is now another part:

A loving creature she, and brave!

And fondly strives her struggling friend to save.

From the brink her paws she stretches,

Very hands as you would say!

And afflicting moans she fetches,

As he breaks the ice away.

For herself she hath no fears,—

Him alone she sees and hears,—

Makes efforts with complainings; nor gives o'er
Until her fellow sinks to re-appear no more.

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1805

XVIII
TRIBUTE

TO THE MEMORY OF THE SAME DOG

IE here, without a record of thy worth,

a

Beneath a covering of the common earth!

It is not from unwillingness to praise,

Or want of love, that here no Stone we raise ;
More thou deserv'st; but this man gives to man
Brother to brother, this is all we can.

Yet they to whom thy virtues made thee dear
Shall find thee through all changes of the year:
This Oak points out thy grave; the silent tree
Will gladly stand a monument of thee.

We grieved for thee, and wished thy end were past; And willingly have laid thee here at last :

For thou hadst lived till every thing that cheers
In thee had yielded to the weight of years;
Extreme old age had wasted thee away,
And left thee but a glimmering of the day;
Thy ears were deaf, and feeble were thy knees,—
I saw thee stagger in the summer breeze,
Too weak to stand against its sportive breath,
And ready for the gentlest stroke of death.
It came, and we were glad; yet tears were shed;
Both man and woman wept when thou wert dead;
Not only for a thousand thoughts that were,

ΙΟ

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Old household thoughts, in which thou hadst thy share;
But for some precious boons vouchsafed to thee,
Found scarcely any where in like degree!

For love, that comes wherever life and sense
Are given by God, in thee was most intense;
A chain of heart, a feeling of the mind,
A tender sympathy, which did thee bind
Not only to us Men, but to thy Kind:
Yea, for thy fellow-brutes in thee we saw
A soul of love, love's intellectual law :-
Hence, if we wept, it was not done in shame;
Our tears from passion and from reason came,
And, therefore, shalt thou be an honoured name!

1805

30

A

XIX

FIDELITY

BARKING sound the Shepherd hears,
A cry as of a dog or fox;

He halts and searches with his eyes
Among the scattered rocks:

And now at distance can discern

A stirring in a brake of fern;

And instantly a dog is seen,

Glancing through that covert green.

The Dog is not of mountain breed ;
Its motions, too, are wild and shy;
With something, as the Shepherd thinks,
Unusual in its cry:

Nor is there any one in sight

All round, in hollow or on height;

Nor shout, nor whistle strikes his ear;
What is the creature doing here?

It was a cove, a huge recess,

That keeps, till June, December's snow;
A lofty precipice in front,

A silent tarn 1 below!

Far in the bosom of Helvellyn,

Remote from public road or dwelling,
Pathway, or cultivated land;

From trace of human foot or hand.

There sometimes doth a leaping fish
Send through the tarn a lonely cheer;
The
crags repeat the raven's croak,
In symphony austere;

Thither the rainbow comes-the cloud-
And mists that spread the flying shroud;
And sunbeams; and the sounding blast,
That, if it could, would hurry past;
But that enormous barrier holds it fast.

Not free from boding thoughts, a while
The Shepherd stood; then makes his way
O'er rocks and stones, following the Dog
As quickly as he may;

Nor far had gone before he found
A human skeleton on the ground;
The appalled Discoverer with a sigh
Looks round, to learn the history.

From those abrupt and perilous rocks
The Man had fallen, that place of fear!
At length upon the Shepherd's mind
It breaks, and all is clear:

He instantly recalled the name,
And who he was, and whence he came ;
Remembered, too, the very day

On which the Traveller passed this way.

1 Tarn is a small Mere or Lake, mostly high up in the mountains.

ΤΟ

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But hear a wonder, for whose sake
This lamentable tale I tell!

A lasting monument of words

This wonder merits well.

The Dog, which still was hovering nigh,
Repeating the same timid cry,

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This Dog had been through three months' space
A dweller in that savage place.

Yes, proof was plain that, since the day

When this ill-fated Traveller died,

The Dog had watched about the spot,

Or by his master's side:

How nourished here through such long time
He knows, who gave that love sublime;
And gave that strength of feeling, great
Above all human estimate!

60

1805

XX

ODE TO DUTY

'Jam non consilio bonus, sed more eò perductus, ut non tantum rectè facere possim, sed nisi rectè facere non possim'

S

TERN Daughter of the Voice of God!

O Duty! if that name thou love

Who art a light to guide, a rod

To check the erring, and reprove;
Thou, who art victory and law

When empty terrors overawe;

From vain temptations dost set free;

And calm'st the weary strife of frail humanity!

There are who ask not if thine eye

Be on them; who, in love and truth,

Where no misgiving is, rely

Upon the genial sense of youth:

Glad Hearts! without reproach or blot;

Who do thy work, and know it not:

Oh! if through confidence misplaced

ΙΟ

They fail, thy saving arms, dread Power! around them cast.

Serene will be our days and bright,

And happy will our nature be,

When love is an unerring light,

And joy its own security.

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