The loiterer, not unnoticed by his comrades. Lay stretched at ease; but, passing by the place On their return, they found that he was gone. No ill was feared; till one of them by chance Entering, when evening was far spent, the house Which at that time was James's home, there learned That nobody had seen him all that day : The morning came, and still he was unheard of: The neighbours were alarmed, and to the brook Some hastened; some ran to the Lake: ere noon They found him at the foot of that same rock Dead, and with mangled limbs. The third day after I buried him, poor Youth, and there he lies! LEONARD. And that then is his grave!-Before his death You say that he saw many happy years? Ay that he did— PRIEST. LEONARD. And all went well with him? PRIEST. If he had one, the youth had twenty homes. LEONARD. And you believe, then, that his mind was easy? PRIEST. Yes, long before he died, he found that time His thoughts were turned to Leonard's luckless fortune, He talked about him with a cheerful love. LEONARD. He could not come to an unhallowed end! PRIEST. Nay, God forbid !-You recollect I mentioned A habit which disquietude and grief Had brought upon him; and we all conjectured That, as the day was warm, he had lain down On the soft heath-and waiting for his com rades, He there had fallen asleep; that in his sleep Had walked, and from the summit had fallen headlong. And so, no doubt, he perished. When the Youth Fell, in his hand he must have grasp'd, we think, His shepherd's staff; for on that pillar of the rock It had been caught midway; and there for years It hung and mouldered there. The Priest here endedThe Stranger would have thanked him, but he felt A gushing from his heart, that took away The power of speech. Both left the spot in silence; And Leonard, when they reached the churchyard gate, As the Priest lifted up the latch turned round,And, looking at the grave, he said, "My Brother!" The Vicar did not hear the words: and now, He pointed towards his dwelling place, entreating That Leonard would partake his homely fare : The other thanked him with an earnest voice; But added, that, the evening being calm, He would pursue his journey. So they parted. It was not long ere Leonard reached a grove And thoughts which had been his an hour before, He travelled back to Egremont: and thence, And adding, with a hope to be forgiven, 1800 SHE dwelt among the untrodden ways A Maid whom there were none to praise A violet by a mossy stone -Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky. She lived unknown, and few could know When Lucy ceased to be; But she is in her grave, and, oh, The difference to me! 1799. |