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Who, from their lowly mansions hither brought,

Beneath this turf lie mouldering at our feet.
So, by your records, may our doubts be solved;
And so, not searching higher, we may learn
To prize the breath we share with human kind
And look upon the dust of Man with awe."

;

The Priest replied." An office you impose

For which peculiar requisites are mine ;

Yet much, I feel, is wanting-else the task

Would be most grateful. True indeed it is

That They whom Death has hidden from our sight
Are worthiest of the Mind's regard; with these
The future cannot contradict the past:
Mortality's last exercise and proof

Is undergone; the transit made that shews
The very soul, revealed as it departs.
Yet, on your first suggestion, will I give,
Ere we descend into these silent vaults,

One Picture from the living.

You behold,

High on the breast of yon dark mountain-dark

With stony barrenness, a shining speck

Bright as a sun-beam sleeping till a shower

Brush it away, or cloud pass over it;

And such it might be deemed-a sleeping sun-beam ;

But 'tis a plot of cultivated ground,

Cut off, an island in the dusky waste;

And that attractive brightness is its own.

The lofty Site, by nature framed to tempt

Amid a wilderness of rocks and stones

The Tiller's hand, a Hermit might have chosen,
For opportunity presented, thence

Far forth to send his wandering eye o'er land
And ocean, and look down upon the works,
The habitations, and the ways of men,
Himself unseen! But no tradition tells

That ever Hermit dipped his maple dish

In the sweet spring that lurks mid yon green fields;

And no such visionary views belong

To those who occupy and till the ground,
And on the bosom of the mountain dwell-

A wedded Pair, in childless solitude.

-A House of stones collected on the spot,
By rude hands built, with rocky knolls in front,
Backed also by a ledge of rock, whose crest

Of birch-trees waves above the chimney top;

In shape, in size, and colour, an abode

Such as in unsafe times of Border war

Might have been wished for and contrived-to elude

The eye of roving Plunderer, for their need
Suffices; and unshaken bears the assault

Of their most dreaded foe, the strong South-west,
In anger blowing from the distant sea.
-Alone within her solitary Hut;

There, or within the compass of her fields,
At any moment may the Dame be found,
True as the Stock-dove to her shallow nest
And to the grove that holds it. She beguiles
By intermingled work of house and field
The summer's day, and winter's; with success
Not equal, but sufficient to maintain,
Even at the worst, a smooth stream of content,
Until the expected hour at which her Mate
From the far-distant Quarry's vault returns ;
And by his converse crowns a silent day
With evening cheerfulness. In powers of mind,
In scale of culture, few among my Flock
Hold lower rank than this sequestered Pair.

H H

But humbleness of heart descends from heaven;
And that best gift of heaven hath fallen on them;
Abundant recompence for every want.

-Stoop from your height, ye proud, and copy these!
Who, in their noiseless dwelling-place, can hear
The voice of wisdom whispering scripture texts
For the mind's government, or temper's peace;
And recommending, for their mutual need,
Forgiveness, patience, hope, and charity!"

"Much was I pleased," the grey-haired Wanderer said, "When to those shining fields our notice first

You turned; and yet more pleased have from your lips
Gathered this fair report of those who dwell
In that Retirement; whither, by such course
Of evil hap and good as oft awaits

A lone way-faring Man, I once was brought.
Dark on my road the autumnal evening fell
While I was traversing yon mountain-pass,
And night succeeded with unusual gloom;
So that my feet and hands at length became
Guides better than mine eyes-until a light
High in the gloom appeared, too high, methought,

For human habitation; but I longed
To reach it, destitute of other hope.

I looked with steadiness as Sailors look

On the north star, or watch-tower's distant lamp,
And saw the light-now fixed-and shifting now-
Not like a dancing meteor, but in line
Of never-varying motion, to and fro.

It is no night-fire of the naked hills,
Said I, some friendly covert must be near.
With this persuasion thitherward my steps
I turn, and reach at last the guiding Light;
Joy to myself! but to the heart of Her

Who there was standing on the open hill,

(The same kind Matron whom your tongue hath praised)

Alarm and disappointment! The alarm

Ceased, when she learned through what mishap I came,

And by what help had gained those distant fields.
Drawn from her Cottage, on that open height

Bearing a lantern in her hand she stood,

Or paced the ground-to guide her Husband home,

By that unwearied signal, kenned afar ;
An anxious duty! which the lofty Site,
Far from all public road or beaten way

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