Thy ears were deaf, and feeble were thy knees,- Old household thoughts, in which thou hadst thy share; For love, that comes wherever life and sense XIX FIDELITY. A BARKING Sound the Shepherd hears, He halts—and searches with his eyes And now at distance can discern The Dog is not of mountain breed; Unusual in its cry: Nor is there any one in sight All round, in hollow or on height; Nor shout, nor whistle strikes his ear; What is the creature doing here? It was a cove, a huge recess, That keeps, till June, December's snow; A silent tarn * below! Far in the bosom of Helvellyn, From trace of human foot or hand. There sometimes doth a leaping fish Thither the rainbow comes- -the cloud- Not free from boding thoughts, a while Ner far had gone before he found * Tarn is a small Mere or Lake, mostly high up in the mountains. From those abrupt and perilous rocks He instantly recalled the name, And who he was, and whence he came ; On which the Traveller passed this way. But hear a wonder, for whose sake A lasting monument of words This wonder merits well. The Dog, which still was hovering nigh, Repeating the same timid cry, This Dog, had been through three months' space A dweller in that savage place. Yes, proof was plain that, since the day When this ill-fated Traveller died, The Dog had watched about the spot, How nourished here through such long time 1805. XX. ODE TO DUTY. 'Jam non consilio bonus, sed more eò perductus, ut non tantum rectè facere possim, sed nisi rectè facere non possim.' STERN Daughter of the Voice of God! O Duty! if that name thou love When empty terrors overawe; From vain temptations dost set free; And calm'st the weary strife of frail humanity! There are who ask not if thine eye Be on them; who, in love and truth, Where no misgiving is, rely Upon the genial sense of youth: Glad Hearts! without reproach or blot; Who do thy work, and know it not: Oh! if through confidence misplaced They fail, thy saving arms, dread Power! around them cast. |