Inch-thick the dust lay on the ground, For it had long been droughty weather: So with his staff the Cripple wrought Among the dust, till he had brought The halfpennies together. It chanced that Andrew passed that way Just at the time; and there he found The Cripple in the mid-day heat Standing alone, and at his feet He saw the penny on the ground. He stooped and took the penny up: And hence I say, that Andrew's boys Will all be trained to waste and pillage; And wished the press-gang or the drum Would, with its rattling music, come And sweep him from the village. XV. In the School of is a Tablet, on which are inscribed, in gilt letters, the Names of the several Persons who have been Schoolmasters there since the Founda ̄ tion of the School, with the Time at which they entered upon and quitted their Office. Opposite one of those Names the Author wrote the following Lines. IF Nature, for a favourite Child Read o'er these lines; and then review In such diversity of hue Its history of two hundred years. -When through this little wreck of fame, Cypher and syllable! thine eye Has travelled down to Matthew's name, Pause with no common sympathy. And, if a sleeping tear should wake, Then be it neither checked nor stayed: Which for himself he had not made. Poor Matthew, all his frolics o'er, Is silent as a standing pool; Far from the chimney's merry roar, And murmur of the village school. The sighs which Matthew heaved were sighs Yet, sometimes, when the secret cup He felt with spirit so profound. -Thou Soul of God's best earthly mould! Thou happy Soul! and can it be That these two words of glittering gold Are all that must remain of thee? XVI. THE TWO APRIL MORNINGS. WE walked along, while bright and red Uprose the morning sun; And Matthew stopped, he looked, and said, "The will of God be done!" A village Schoolmaster was he, With hair of glittering gray; As blithe a man as you could see On a spring holiday. And on that morning, through the grass, And by the steaming rills, We travelled merrily, to pass A day among the hills. "Our work," said I," was well begun; Then, from thy breast what thought, So sad a sigh has brought?". A second time did Matthew stop; And fixing still his eye Upon the eastern mountain-top, To me he made reply: "Yon cloud with that long purple cleft Brings fresh into my mind A day like this which I have left Full thirty years behind. "And just above yon slope of corn Such colours, and no other, Were in the sky, that April morn, Of this the very brother. "With rod and line I sued the sport Which that sweet season gave, And, coming to the church, stopped short Beside my daughter's grave. VOL. II. K |