Again, and once again, did I repeat the song; 66 66 Nay," said I, more than half to the damsel must belong, For she looked with such a look, and she spake with such a tone, That I almost received her heart into my own." TO M. H. (Addressed to Mary Hutchinson two years before she became Wordsworth's wife.) O UR walk was far among the ancient trees : There was no road, nor any woodman's path; A track, that brought us to a slip of lawn, All round this pool both flocks and herds might drink Or some stone basin which the herdsman's hand And blend its waters with his daily meal, HART-LEAP WELL. [Hart-Leap Well is a small spring of water, about five miles from Richmond in Yorkshire, and near the side of the road that leads from Richmond to Askrigg. Its name is derived from a remarkable Chase, the memory of which is preserved by the monuments spoken of in the Second Part of the following Poem, which monuments do now exist as I have there described them.] TH HE Knight had ridden down from Wensley Moor With the slow motion of a summer's cloud, And now, as he approached a vassal's door, Bring forth another horse!" he cried aloud. "Another horse !"-That shout the vassal heard Joy sparkled in the prancing courser's eyes; There is a doleful silence in the air. A rout this morning left Sir Walter's Hall, But horse and man are vanished, one and all ; Sir Walter, restless as a veering wind, Calls to the few tired dogs that yet remain ; Blanch, Swift, and Music, noblest of their kind Follow, and up the weary mountain strain. The Knight hallooed, he cheered and chid them on With suppliant gestures and upbraidings stern; But breath and eyesight fail; and, one by one, The dogs are stretched among the mountain fern. Where is the throng, the tumult of the race? The poor Hart toils along the mountain-side; Dismounting then, he leaned against a thorn; Close to the thorn on which Sir Walter leaned, Upon his side the Hart was lying stretched : And now, too happy for repose or rest (Never had living man such joyful lot !), Sir Walter walked all round, north, south, and west, And gazed and gazed upon that darling spot. And climbing up the hill (it was at least Four roods of sheer ascent), Sir Walter found Sir Walter wiped his face, and cried, "Till now "I'll build a pleasure-house upon this spot, "A cunning artist will I have to frame A basin for that fountain in the dell ! And they who do make mention of the same, From this day forth shall call it HART-LEAP WELL. "And, gallant Stag! to make thy praises known, "And in the summer time, when days are long, "Till the foundations of the mountains fail My mansion with its arbour shall endureThe joy of them who till the fields of Swale, And them who dwell among the woods of Ure!" Then home he went, and left the Hart, stone-dead, With breathless nostrils stretched above the spring. Soon did the Knight perform what he had said; And far and wide the fame thereof did ring. Ere thrice the moon into her port had steered, And near the fountain, flowers of stature tall A leafy shelter from the sun and wind. And thither, when the summer days were long, The Knight, Sir Walter, died in course of time, |