"Rest, little Young One, rest; thou hast forgot the day When my Father found thee first in places far away; Many flocks were on the hills, but thou wert own'd by none, And thy mother from thy side for evermore was gone. "He took thee in his arms, and in pity brought thee home. A blessed day for thee! then whither wouldst thou roam? A faithful Nurse thou hast; the dam that did thee yean Upon the mountain tops no kinder could have been. "Thou know'st that twice a day I have brought thee in this Can Fresh water from the brook, as clear as ever ran; And twice in the day, when the ground is wet with dew, I bring thee draughts of milk, warm milk it is and new. 66 Thy limbs will shortly be twice as stout as they are now, Then I'll yoke thee to my cart like a pony in the plough ; My Playmate thou shalt be; and when the wind is cold Our hearth shall be thy bed, our house shall be thy fold. "It will not, will not rest! - Poor Creature, can it be That 'tis thy mother's heart which is working so in thee? Things that I know not of belike to thee are dear, And dreams of things which thou canst neither see nor hear. "Alas, the mountain tops that look so green and fair! I've heard of fearful winds and darkness that come there; "Here thou need'st not dread the raven in the sky; Night and day thou art safe, our cottage is hard by. Why bleat so after me? Why pull so at thy chain? Sleep and at break of day I will come to thee again!” As homeward through the lane I went with lazy feet, This song to myself did I oftentimes repeat; And it seem'd, as I retraced the ballad line by line, Again, and once again, did I repeat the song; 66 Nay," said I, "more than half to the Damsel must belong, For she look'd with such a look, and she spake with such a tone, That I almost received her heart into my own." XII. THE IDLE SHEPHERD-BOYS ; OR, DUNGEON-GHYLL FORCE. * A Pastoral. I. THE valley rings with mirth and joy; A never, never ending song, The Magpie chatters with delight; Have left the Mother and the Nest; And they go rambling east and west In search of their own food; Or through the glittering Vapours dart In very wantonness of heart. *Ghyll, in the dialect of Cumberland and Westmoreland, i a short, and, for the most part, a steep narrow valley, with a stream running through it. Force is the word universally employed in these dialects for Waterfall. II. Beneath a rock, upon the grass, On pipes of sycamore they play And thus, as happy as the Day, Those Shepherds wear the time away. III. Along the river's stony marge The Sand-lark chants a joyous song; A thousand Lambs are on the rocks, That plaintive cry! which up the hill Comes from the depth of Dungeon-Ghyll. IV. Said Walter, leaping from the ground, "Down to the stump of yon old yew We'll for our Whistles run a race." Away the Shepherds flew. They leapt they ran—and when they came Right opposite to Dungeon-Ghyll, Seeing that he should lose the prize, Stop!" to his comrade Walter cries He stopped with no good will: Said Walter then, "Your task is here, "Twill baffle you for half a year. V. "Cross, if you dare, where I shall cross Come on, and in my footsteps tread!" The other took him at his word, And followed as he led. It was a spot which you may see If ever you to Langdale go; Into a chasm a mighty Block Hath fallen, and made a Bridge of rock: The gulf is deep below; And in a basin black and small Receives a lofty Waterfall. |