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—Again he wanders forth at will,
And tends a Flock from hill to hill:
His garb is humble; ne'er was seen
Such garb with such a noble mien;
Among the Shepherd-grooms no Mate
Hath he, a Child of strength and state!
Yet lacks not friends for solemn glee,
And a chearful company,
That learn'd of him submissive ways;
And comforted his private days.
To his side the Fallow-deer
Came, and rested without fear;
The Eagle, Lord of land and sea,
Stoop'd down to pay him fealty;
And both the undying Fish that swim
Through Bowscale-Tarn did wait on him.
The pair were Servants of his eye
In their immortality,

They moved about in open sight,

To and fro, for his delight.

He knew the Rocks which Angels haunt

On the Mountains visitant;

He hath kenn'd them taking wing:

And the Caves where Faeries sing

He hath entered; and been told

By Voices how Men liv'd of old.

Among the Heavens his eye can see

Face of thing that is to bet

And, if Men report him right.

He can whisper words of might.

—Now another day is come,

Fitter hope, and nobler doom:

He hath thrown aside his Crook,

And hath buried deep his Book f

Armour rusting in his Halls

On the blood of Clifford calls;—

'' Quell the Scot," exclaims the Lance,

Bear me to the heart of France,

Is the longing of the Shield—

Tell thy name, thou trembling Field;

Field of death, where'er thou be,

Groan thou with our victory!

Happy day, and mighty hour,

When our Shepherd, in his power,

Mail'd and hors'd, with lance and sword,

To his Ancestors restored,

Like a reappearing Star, . * .

Like a glory from afar,

First shall head the Flock of War!"

Alas! the fervent Harper did not know
That for a tranquil Soul the Lay was framed,
Who, long compell'd in humble walks to go.
Was softened into feeling, sooth'd, and tamed.
Love had he found in huts where poor Men lie.
His daily Teachers had been Woods and Rills,
The silence that is in the starry sky,
The sleep that is among the lonely hills.

In him the savage Virtue of the Race,
Revenge, and all ferocious thoughts were dead:
Nor did he change; but kept in lofty place
The wisdom which adversity had bred.

Glad were the Vales, and every cottage hearth;
The Shepherd Lord was honoured more and more:
And, ages after he was laid in earth,
"The Good Lord Clifford " was the name he bore.


Composed at Gbasmekt, during a walk, one Evening, after a stormy day, the Author having just read in a Newspaper that the duaolution of Ms. Fox was hourly expected.

Loud is the Vale! the Voice is up

With which she speaks when storms are gone,

A mighty Unison of streams!

Of all her Voices, One!

Loud is the Vale; — this inland Depth
In peace is roaring like the Sea;
Yon Star upon the mountain-top
Is listening quietly.

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