Delphi Poetry Anthology: The World's Greatest Poems (Delphi Poets Series Book 50)

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Delphi Poetry Anthology: The World's Greatest Poems (Delphi Poets Series Book 50) Page 136

by Homer


  He might be sent to him. Ten times or more

  The letter was read over; Isabel

  Went forth to show it to the neighbours round;

  Nor was there at that time on English land 315

  A prouder heart than Luke’s. When Isabel

  Had to her house returned, the old Man said,

  ‘He shall depart to-morrow.’ To this word

  The Housewife answered, talking much of things

  Which, if at such short notice he should go, 320

  Would surely be forgotten. But at length

  She gave consent, and Michael was at ease.

  Near the tumultuous brook of Greenhead Ghyll,

  In that deep valley, Michael had designed

  To build a Sheepfold; and, before he heard 325

  The tidings of his melancholy loss,

  For this same purpose he had gathered up

  A heap of stones, which by the streamlet’s edge

  Lay thrown together, ready for the work.

  With Luke that evening thitherward he walked; 330

  And soon as they had reached the place he stopped.

  And thus the old Man spake to him:— ‘My Son,

  To-morrow thou wilt leave me: with full heart

  I look upon thee, for thou art the same

  That wert a promise to me ere thy birth, 335

  And all thy life hast been my daily joy.

  I will relate to thee some little part

  Of our two histories; ‘twill do thee good

  When thou art from me, even if I should touch

  On things thou canst not know of. — After thou 340

  First cam’st into the world — as oft befalls

  To new-born infants — thou didst sleep away

  Two days, and blessings from thy Father’s tongue

  Then fell upon thee. Day by day passed on,

  And still I loved thee with increasing love. 345

  Never to living ear came sweeter sounds

  Than when I heard thee by our own fireside

  First uttering, without words, a natural tune:

  While thou, a feeding babe, didst in thy joy

  Sing at thy Mother’s breast. Month followed month, 350

  And in the open fields my life was passed

  And on the mountains; else I think that thou

  Hadst been brought up upon thy Father’s knees.

  But we were playmates, Luke: among these hills,

  As well thou knowest, in us the old and young 355

  Have played together, nor with me didst thou

  Lack any pleasure which a boy can know.’

  Luke had a manly heart; but at these words

  He sobbed aloud. The old Man grasped his hand,

  And said, ‘Nay, do not take it so — I see 360

  That these are things of which I need not speak.

  — Even to the utmost I have been to thee

  A kind and a good Father: and herein

  I but repay a gift which I myself

  Received at others’ hand; for, though now old 365

  Beyond the common life of man, I still

  Remember them who loved me in my youth.

  Both of them sleep together; here they lived,

  As all their Forefathers had done; and when

  At length their time was come, they were not loth 370

  To give their bodies to the family mould.

  I wished that thou shouldst live the life they lived:

  But, ’tis a long time to look back, my Son

  And see so little gained from threescore years.

  These fields were burthened when they came to me; 375

  Till I was forty years of age, not more

  Than half of my inheritance was mine.

  I toiled and toiled; God blessed me in my work,

  And till these three weeks past the land was free.

  — It looks as if it never could endure 380

  Another Master. Heaven forgive me, Luke,

  If I judge ill for thee, but it seems good

  That thou shouldst go.’

  At this the old Man paused;Then, pointing to the stones near which they stood,

  Thus, after a short silence, he resumed:

  ‘This was a work for us; and now, my Son,

  It is a work for me. But, lay one stone —

  Here, lay it for me, Luke, with thine own hands.

  Nay, Boy, be of good hope; — we both may live 390

  To see a better day. At eighty-four

  I still am strong and hale; — do thou thy part;

  I will do mine. — I will begin again

  With many tasks that were resigned to thee:

  Up to the heights, and in among the storms, 395

  Will I without thee go again, and do

  All works which I was wont to do alone,

  Before I knew thy face. — Heaven bless thee, Boy!

  Thy heart these two weeks has been beating fast

  With many hopes; it should be so — yes — yes — 400

  I knew that thou couldst never have a wish

  To leave me, Luke: thou hast been bound to me

  Only by links of love: when thou art gone,

  What will be left to us! — But, I forget

  My purposes: Lay now the corner-stone, 405

  As I requested; and hereafter, Luke,

  When thou art gone away, should evil men

  Be thy companions, think of me, my Son,

  And of this moment; hither turn thy thoughts,

  And God will strengthen thee: amid all fear 410

  And all temptations, Luke, I pray that thou

  May’st bear in mind the life thy Fathers lived,

  Who, being innocent, did for that cause

  Bestir them in good deeds. Now, fare thee well —

  When thou return’st, thou in this place wilt see 415

  A work which is not here: a covenant

  ‘Twill be between us; but, whatever fate

  Befall thee, I shall love thee to the last,

  And bear thy memory with me to the grave.’

  The Shepherd ended here; and Luke stooped down, 420

  And, as his Father had requested, laid

  The first stone of the Sheepfold. At the sight

  The old Man’s grief broke from him; to his heart

  He pressed his Son, he kissed him and wept;

  And to the house together they returned. 425

  — Hushed was that House in peace, or seeming peace,

  Ere the Night fell: — with morrow’s dawn the Boy

  Began his journey, and when he had reached

  The public way, he put on a bold face;

  And all the neighbours, as he passed their doors, 430

  Came forth with wishes and with farewell prayers,

  That followed him till he was out of sight.

  A good report did from their kinsman come,

  Of Luke and his well-doing: and the Boy

  Wrote loving letters, full of wondrous news, 435

  Which, as the Housewife phrased it, were throughout

  ‘The prettiest letters that were ever seen.’

  Both parents read them with rejoicing hearts.

  So, many months passed on: and once again

  The Shepherd went about his daily work 440

  With confident and cheerful thoughts; and now

  Sometimes when he could find a leisure hour

  He to that valley took his way, and there

  Wrought at the Sheepfold. Meantime Luke began

  To slacken in his duty; and, at length, 445

  He in the dissolute city gave himself

  To evil courses: ignominy and shame

  Fell on him, so that he was driven at last

  To seek a hiding-place beyond the seas.

  There is a comfort in the strength of love; 450

  ‘Twill make a thing endurable, which else

  Would overset the brain, or break the heart:

/>   I have conversed with more than one who well

  Remember the old Man, and what he was

  Years after he had heard this heavy news. 455

  His bodily frame had been from youth to age

  Of an unusual strength. Among the rocks

  He went, and still looked up to sun and cloud,

  And listened to the wind; and, as before,

  Performed all kinds of labour for his sheep, 460

  And for the land, his small inheritance.

  And to that hollow dell from time to time

  Did he repair, to build the Fold of which

  His flock had need. ’Tis not forgotten yet

  The pity which was then in every heart 465

  For the old Man — and ’tis believed by all

  That many and many a day he thither went,

  And never lifted up a single stone.

  There, by the Sheepfold, sometimes was he seen

  Sitting alone, or with his faithful Dog, 470

  Then old, beside him, lying at his feet.

  The length of full seven years, from time to time,

  He at the building of this Sheepfold wrought,

  And left the work unfinished when he died.

  Three years, or little more, did Isabel 475

  Survive her Husband: at her death the estate

  Was sold, and went into a stranger’s hand.

  The Cottage which was named THE EVENING STAR

  Is gone — the ploughshare has been through the ground

  On which it stood; great changes have been wrought 480

  In all the neighbourhood: — yet the oak is left

  That grew beside their door; and the remains

  Of the unfinished Sheepfold may be seen

  Beside the boisterous brook of Greenhead Ghyll.

  List of Poems in Alphabetical Order

  List of Poets in Alphabetical Order

  Yarrow Unvisited

  1803

  William Wordsworth (1770–1850)

  FROM Stirling Castle we had seen

  The mazy Forth unravell’d,

  Had trod the banks of Clyde and Tay,

  And with the Tweed had travell’d;

  And when we came to Clovenford, 5

  Then said my ‘winsome Marrow,’

  ‘Whate’er betide, we’ll turn aside,

  And see the Braes of Yarrow.’

  ‘Let Yarrow folk, frae Selkirk town,

  Who have been buying, selling, 10

  Go back to Yarrow, ’tis their own,

  Each maiden to her dwelling!

  On Yarrow’s banks let herons feed,

  Hares couch, and rabbits burrow;

  But we will downward with the Tweed, 15

  Nor turn aside to Yarrow.

  ‘There’s Galla Water, Leader Haughs,

  Both lying right before us;

  And Dryburgh, where with chiming Tweed

  The lintwhites sing in chorus; 20

  There’s pleasant Teviotdale, a land

  Made blythe with plough and harrow:

  Why throw away a needful day

  To go in search of Yarrow?

  ‘What’s Yarrow but a river bare 25

  That glides the dark hills under?

  There are a thousand such elsewhere

  As worthy of your wonder.’

  — Strange words they seem’d of slight and scorn;

  My true-love sigh’d for sorrow, 30

  And look’d me in the face, to think

  I thus could speak of Yarrow!

  ‘O green,’ said I, ‘are Yarrow’s holms.

  And sweet is Yarrow flowing!

  Fair hangs the apple frae the rock, 35

  But we will leave it growing.

  O’er hilly path and open strath

  We’ll wander Scotland thorough;

  But, though so near, we will not turn

  Into the dale of Yarrow. 40

  ‘Let beeves and home-bred kine partake

  The sweets of Burn-mill meadow;

  The swan on still Saint Mary’s Lake

  Float double, swan and shadow!

  We will not see them; will not go 45

  To-day, nor yet to-morrow;

  Enough if in our hearts we know

  There’s such a place as Yarrow.

  ‘Be Yarrow stream unseen, unknown;

  It must, or we shall rue it: 50

  We have a vision of our own,

  Ah! why should we undo it?

  The treasured dreams of times long past,

  We’ll keep them, winsome Marrow!

  For when we’re there, although ’tis fair, 55

  ‘Twill be another Yarrow!

  ‘If care with freezing years should come

  And wandering seem but folly, —

  Should we be loth to stir from home,

  And yet be melancholy; 60

  Should life be dull, and spirits low,

  ‘Twill soothe us in our sorrow

  That earth has something yet to show,

  The bonny holms of Yarrow!’

  List of Poems in Alphabetical Order

  List of Poets in Alphabetical Order

  Yarrow Visited

  [September, 1814]

  William Wordsworth (1770–1850)

  AND is this — Yarrow? — This the stream

  Of which my fancy cherish’d

  So faithfully, a waking dream,

  An image that hath perish’d?

  O that some minstrel’s harp were near 5

  To utter notes of gladness

  And chase this silence from the air,

  That fills my heart with sadness.

  Yet why? — a silvery current flows

  With uncontroll’d meanderings; 10

  Nor have these eyes by greener hills

  Been soothed, in all my wanderings.

  And, through her depths, Saint Mary’s Lake

  Is visibly delighted;

  For not a feature of those hills 15

  Is in the mirror slighted.

  A blue sky bends o’er Yarrow Vale,

  Save where that pearly whiteness

  Is round the rising sun diffused,

  A tender hazy brightness; 20

  Mild dawn of promise! that excludes

  All profitless dejection;

  Though not unwilling here to admit

  A pensive recollection.

  Where was it that the famous Flower 25

  Of Yarrow Vale lay bleeding?

  His bed perchance was yon smooth mound

  On which the herd is feeding:

  And haply from this crystal pool

  Now peaceful as the morning, 30

  The water-Wraith ascended thrice,

  And gave his doleful warning.

  Delicious is the Lay that sings

  The haunts of happy lovers,

  The path that leads them to the grove, 35

  The leafy grove that covers:

  And pity sanctifies the verse

  That paints, by strength of sorrow,

  The unconquerable strength of love;

  Bear witness, rueful Yarrow! 40

  But thou that didst appear so fair

  To fond imagination

  Dost rival in the light of day

  Her delicate creation:

  Meek loveliness is round thee spread, 45

  A softness still and holy:

  The grace of forest charms decay’d,

  And pastoral melancholy.

  That region left, the vale unfolds

  Rich groves of lofty stature, 50

  With Yarrow winding through the pomp

  Of cultivated Nature;

  And rising from those lofty groves

  Behold a ruin hoary,

  The shatter’d front of Newark’s Towers, 55

  Renown’d in Border story.

  Fair scenes for childhood’s opening bloom,

  For sportive youth to stray in,

  For manhood to enjoy his strengt
h,

  And age to wear away in! 60

  Yon cottage seems a bower of bliss,

  A covert for protection

  Of studious ease and generous cares

  And every chaste affection!

  How sweet on this autumnal day 65

  The wild-wood fruits to gather,

  And on my true-love’s forehead plant

  A crest of blooming heather!

  And what if I enwreathed my own?

  ‘Twere no offence to reason; 70

  The sober hills thus deck their brows

  To meet the wintry season.

  I see — but not by sight alone,

  Loved Yarrow, have I won thee;

  A ray of Fancy still survives — 75

  Her sunshine plays upon thee!

  Thy ever-youthful waters keep

  A course of lively pleasure;

  And gladsome notes my lips can breathe

  Accordant to the measure. 80

  The vapours linger round the heights,

  They melt, and soon must vanish;

  One hour is theirs, nor more is mine —

  Sad thought! which I would banish,

  But that I know, where’er I go, 85

  Thy genuine image, Yarrow!

  Will dwell with me, to heighten joy

  And cheer my mind in sorrow.

  List of Poems in Alphabetical Order

  List of Poets in Alphabetical Order

  Yarrow Revisited

  William Wordsworth (1770–1850)

  THE GALLANT Youth, who may have gained,

  Or seeks, a ‘winsome Marrow,’

  Was but an Infant in the lap

  When first I looked on Yarrow;

  Once more, by Newark’s Castle-gate 5

  Long left without a warder,

  I stood, looked, listened, and with Thee,

  Great Minstrel of the Border!

  Grave thoughts ruled wide on that sweet day,

  Their dignity installing 10

  In gentle bosoms, while sere leaves

  Were on the bough, or falling;

  But breezes played, and sunshine gleamed —

  The forest to embolden;

  Reddened the fiery hues, and shot 15

  Transparence through the golden.

  For busy thoughts the Stream flowed on

  In foamy agitation;

  And slept in many a crystal pool

  For quiet contemplation: 20

  No public and no private care

 

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