In silence Matthew lay, and eyed "No check, no stay, this streamlet fears: How merrily it goes! 'Twill murmur on a thousand years, And flow as now it flows. And here, on this delightful day, I cannot choose but think How oft, a vigorous man, I lay My eyes are dim with childish tears, For the same sound is in my ears Which in those days I heard. Thus fares it still in our decay: And yet the wiser mind Mourns less for what age takes away Than what it leaves behind. The blackbird amid leafy trees, The lark above the hill, Let loose their carois when they please, With Nature never do they wage A happy youth, and their old age But we are pressed by heavy laws; We wear a face of joy, because If there be one who need bemoan His kindred laid in earth, The household hearts that were his own; It is the man of mirth. My days, my Friend, are almost gone, My life has been approved, And many love me; but by none Am I enough beloved." Now both himself and me he wrongs, I live and sing my idle songs Upon these happy plains, And, Matthew, for thy children dead At this he grasped my hand, and said, We rose up from the fountain-side; Of the green sheep-track did we glide, And, ere we came to Leonard's rock, About the crazy old church-clock, 1799. 15 TRIBUTE TO THE MEMORY OF A FAVOURITE DOG. LIE here, without a record of thy worth, Or want of love, that here no Stone we raise ; Yet they to whom thy virtues made thee dear Shall find thee through all changes of the year: This Oak points out thy grave; the silent tree Will gladly stand a monument of thee. We grieved for thee, and wished thy end were past; And willingly have laid thee here at last : Too weak to stand against its sportive breath, Both man and woman wept when thou wert dead; Not only for a thousand thoughts that were, Old household thoughts, in which thou hadst thy share ; But for some precious boons vouchsafed to thee, name. 1805. |