Like the corpse of an outcast abandon'd to weather Till the mountain-winds wasted the tenantless clay. Nor yet quite deserted, though lonely extended, For, faithful in death, his mute favourite attended, The much-loved remains of her master defended, nis masters And chased the hill-fox and the raven away. sill How long didst thou think that his silence was slumber? When the wind waved his garment, how oft didst thou start? How many long days and long weeks didst thou number, Ere he faded before thee, the friend of thy heart? And, oh! was it meet, that—no requiem read o'er him No mother to weep, and no friend to deplore him, And thou, little guardian, alone stretch'd before him Unhonour'd the Pilgrim from life should depart? When a Prince to the fate of the Peasant has yielded, The tapestry waves dark round the dim-lighted hall; With scutcheons of silver the coffin is shielded, And pages stand mute by the canopied pall : Through the courts, at deep midnight, the torches are gleaming; In the proudly-arch'd chapel the banners are beam ing; Far adown the long aisle sacred music is streaming, 12 tenantless clay, body without soul 13 extended, stretched out 21 meet, fit requiem, funeral service 25 has died 26 tapestry, rich hangings on walls 27 scutcheons, shields 28 pages, servants: canopied, covered But meeter for thee, gentle lover of nature, To lay down thy head like the meek mountain When, wilder'd, he drops from some cliff huge in stature, And draws his last sob by the side of his dam. Far in the has am of Helvellyn * 63 * A REVERIE WHEN, musing on companions gone, Oft in my mind such thoughts awake, Thou know'st it well,-nor fen, nor sedge, Marks where the water meets the land. 33 meeter, fitter I musing, thinking the mind 38 obsequies, funeral service 40 surrounded by 16 pollute, spoil tirn дад Far in the mirror, bright and blue, Where swain, or woodman lone, might dwell; You see that all is loneliness: And silence aids-though the steep hills LIKE to the falling of a star, 26 thwart, crossing 36 rills, little streams 10 entomb'd, buried * 65 * JOHN ANDERSON JOHN ANDERSON my jo, John, John Anderson my jo, John, Now we maun totter down, John, And sleep thegither at the foot, * 66* A LESSON THERE is a flower, the Lesser Celandine, R. Burns That shrinks like many more from cold and rain, And the first moment that the sun may shine, Bright as the sun himself, 'tis out again ! When hailstones have been falling, swarm on swarm, Or blasts the green field and the trees distrest, Oft have I seen it muffled up from harm In close self-shelter, like a thing at rest. I jo, love 2 acquent, acquainted 10 thegither, together 13 maun, must 4 brent, smooth II canty, cheerful But lately, one rough day, this flower I past, I stopp'd and said, with inly-mutter'd voice, 'The sunshine may not cheer it, nor the dew 'It cannot help itself in its decay; ; 'Stiff in its members, wither'd, changed of hue,' And, in my spleen, I smiled that it was gray. To be a prodigal's favourite-then, worse truth, O Man! that from thy fair and shining youth It is not growing like a tree In bulk, doth make Man better be; Is fairer far in May, Although it fall and die that night It was the plant and flower of Light! 21 a prodigal's favourite, wasting the many gifts of Youth 22 a miser's pensioner, getting the little we can from Age 9 just, true |