So all his dreams, that inward light
With which his soul had shone so bright,
All vanished;-'t was a heartfelt cross
To him, a heavy, bitter loss,
As he had ever known.
But hark! a gratulating voice
With which the very hills rejoice:
"Tis from the crowd, who tremblingly Had watched the event, and now can see That he is safe at last.
And then, when he was brought to land,
Full sure they were a happy band,
Which, gathering round, did on the banks.
Of that great water give God thanks,
And welcomed the poor Child.
And in the general joy of heart
The Blind Boy's little dog took part ;
He leapt about, and oft did kiss
His master's hands in sign of bliss,
With sound like lamentation.
But most of all, his Mother dear,
She who had fainted with her fear,
Rejoiced when, waking, she espies
The Child; when she can trust her eyes,
And touches the blind Boy.
She led him home, and wept amain,
When she was in the house again :
Tears flowed in torrents from her eyes ;
She could not blame him, or chastise :
She was too happy far,
Thus, after he had fondly braved
The perilous Deep, the Boy was saved;
And, though his fancies had been wild,
Yet he was pleased, and reconciled
To live in peace on shore.
"What, you are stepping westward?”—“ Yea,”
'T would be a wildish destiny,
If we, who thus together roam
In a strange Land, and far from home,
Were in this place the guests of chance:
Yet who would stop, or fear t'advance,
Though home or shelter he had none,
With such a sky to lead him on?
The dewy ground was dark and cold;
Behind, all gloomy to behold;
And stepping westward seemed to be
A kind of heavenly destiny;
I liked the greeting: 'twas a sound
Of something without place or bound;
And seemed to give me spiritual right
To travel through that region bright.
The voice was soft, and she who spake,
Was walking by her native lake;
The salutation had to me
The very sound of courtesy ;
Its power was felt; and while my eye
Was fixed upon the glowing sky,
The echo of the voice enwrought
A human sweetness with the thought
Of travelling through the world that lay
Before me in my endless way.
(AT INVERSNEYDE, UPON LOCH LOMOND.)
SWEET Highland Girl, a very shower
Of beauty is thy earthly dower!
Twice seven consenting years have shed
Their utmost bounty on thy head:
And these gray rocks; this household lawn ;
These trees, a veil just half withdrawn ;
This fall of water. that doth make
A murmur near the silent lake ;
This little bay; a quiet road
That holds in shelter thy Abode;
In truth together ye do seem
Like something fashioned in a dream ;
Such forms as from their covert peep
When earthly cares are laid asleep!
Yet, dream and vision as thou art,
I bless thee with a human heart!
God shield thee to thy latest years!
I neither know thee, nor thy peers;
And yet my eyes are filled with tears.
With earnest feeling I shall pray
For thee when I am far away:
For never saw I mien, or face,
In which more plainly I could trace
Benignity and home-bred sense
Ripening in perfect innocence.
Here scattered, like a random seed,
Remote from men, thou dost not need
The embarrassed look of shy distress,
And maidenly shamefacedness:
Thou wear'st upon thy forehead clear
The freedom of a Mountaineer,
A face with gladness overspread!
Sweet looks, by human kindness bred!
And seemliness complete, that sways
Thy courtesies, about thee plays;
With no restraint but such as springs
From quick and eager visitings
Of thoughts that lie beyond the reach
Of thy few words of English speech:
A bondage sweetly brooked, a strife
That gives thy gestures grace and life!
So have I, not unmoved in mind,
Seen birds of tempest-loving kind,
Thus beating up against the wind.
What hand but would a garland cull
For thee, who art so beautiful?
O happy pleasure! here to dwell
Beside thee in some heathy dell;
Adopt your homely ways and dress,
A Shepherd, thou a Shepherdess !
But I could frame a wish for thee
More like a grave reality:
Thou art to me but as a wave
Of the wild sea; and I would have Some claim upon thee, if I could, Though but of common neighbourhood.
What joy to hear thee, and to see!
Thy elder brother I would be,
Thy father-anything to thee!
Now thanks to Heaven! that of its grace
Hath led me to this lonely place.
Joy have I had; and going hence
I bear away my recompense.
|