The funeral train, the shepherd and his mate
Were seen descending; forth in transport ran
Our little page; the rustic pair approach;
And in the matron's aspect may be read
A plain assurance that the words which told
How that neglected pensioner was sent,
Before his time, into a quiet grave,
Had done to her humanity no wrong.
But we are kindly welcomed; promptly served
With ostentatious zeal. Along the floor
Of the small cottage in the lonely dell
A grateful couch was spread for our repose;
Where, in the guise of mountaineers, we slept,
Stretched upon fragrant heath, and lulled by sound
Of far off torrents charming the still night,
And to tired limbs and over-busy thoughts,
Inviting sleep and soft forgetfulness.
Farewell to the Valley-Reflections-Sight of a large and populous Vale-Solitary consents to go forward-Vale described-The Pastor's Dwelling, and some account of him-The Church-yard-Church and Monuments-The Solitary musing, and where-Roused-In the church-yard the Solitary communicates the thoughts which had recently passed through his mind-Lofty tone of the Wanderer's discourse of yesterday adverted toRite of Baptism, and the professions accompanying it, contrasted with the real state of human life-Inconsistency of the best men-Acknowledgment that practice falls far below the injunctions of duty as existing in the mind-General complaint of a fallingoff in the value of life after the time of youth-Outward appearance of content and happiness in degree illusive-Pastor approaches-Appeal made to him-His answerWanderer in sympathy with him-Suggestion that the least ambitious inquirers may be most free from error-The Pastor is desired to give some portraits of the living or dead from his own observations of life among these mountains-and for what purposePastor consents-Mountain cottage-Excellent qualities of its inhabitants-Solitary expresses his pleasure; but denies the praise of virtue to worth of this kind-Feelings of the Priest before he enters upon his account of persons interred in the church-yardGraves of unbaptized Infants-What sensations they excite-Funereal and sepulchral observances-Whence-Ecclesiastical establishments-Whence derived-Profession of belief in the doctrine of immortality.
"FAREWELL, deep valley, with thy one rude house,
And its small lot of life-supporting fields,
And guardian rocks! With unreverted eyes
I cannot pass thy bounds, attractive seat!
To the still influx of the morning light
Open, and day's pure cheerfulness, but veiled
From human observation, as if yet
Primeval forests wrapped thee round with dark
Impenetrable shade; once more farewell,
Majestic circuit, beautiful abyss,
By Nature destined from the birth of things
For quietness profound!"
Of that green slope, the outlet of the vale,
Lingering behind my comrades, thus I breathed
A parting tribute to a spot that seemed
Like the fixed centre of a troubled world.
And now, pursuing leisurely my way,
"How vain," thought I, "it is, by change of place
To seek that comfort which the mind denies;
Yet trial and temptation oft are shunned
Wisely; and by such tenure do we hold
Frail life's possessions, that even they whose fate
Yields no peculiar reason of complaint
Might, by the promise that is here, be won
To steal from active duties, and embrace
Obscurity, and calm forgetfulness.
Knowledge, methinks, in these disordered times,
Should be allowed a privilege to have
Her anchorites, like piety of old;
Men, who, from faction sacred, and unstained
By war, might, if so minded, turn aside
Uncensured, and subsist, a scattered few,
Living to God and nature, and content
With that communion. Consecrated be
The spots where such abide! But happier still
The man, whom, furthermore, a hope attends
That meditation and research may guide
His privacy to principles and powers
Discovered, or invented, or set forth,
Through his acquaintance with the ways of truth,
In lucid order; so that, when his course
Is run, some faithful eulogist may say,
He sought not praise and praise did overlook
His unobtrusive merit; but his life
Sweet to himself, was exercised in good
That shall survive his name and memory."
Acknowledgments of gratitude sincere
Accompanied these musings; fervent thanks
For my own peaceful lot and happy choice;
A choice that from the passions of the world
Withdrew, and fixed me in a still retreat,
Sheltered, but not to social duties lost,
Secluded but not buried; and with song
Cheering my days, and with industrious thought,
With the ever-welcome company of books,
By virtuous friendship's soul-sustaining aid,
And with the blessings of domestic love.
Thus occupied in mind I paced along,
Following the rugged road by sledge or wheel
Worn in the moorland, till I overtook
My two associates, in the morning sun
Halting together on a rocky knoll,
From which the road descended rapidly
To the green meadows of another vale.
Here did our pensive host put forth his hand
In sign of farewell. "Nay," the old man said,
"The fragrant air its coolness still retains;
The herds and flocks are yet abroad to crop
The dewy grass; you cannot leave us now,
We must not part at this inviting hour.'
To that injunction, earnestly expressed,
He yielded, though reluctant; for his mind
Instinctively disposed him to retire
To his own covert; as a billow, heaved
Upon the beach, rolls back into the sea.
So we descend; and winding round a rock,
Attain a point that showed the valley, stretched
In length before us; and, not distant far,
Upon a rising ground, a grey church-tower,
Whose battlements were screened by tufted trees.
And towards a crystal mere, that lay beyond,
Among steep hills and woods embosomed, flowed
A copious stream with boldly-winding course;
Here traceable, there hidden, there again
To sight restored, and glittering in the sun.
On the stream's bank, and everywhere, appeared
Fair dwellings, single, or in social knots,
Some scattered o'er the level, others perched
On the hill-sides, a cheerful quiet scene,
Now in its morning purity arrayed.
"As 'mid some happy valley of the Alps,"
Said I, " once happy, ere tyrannic power,
Wantonly breaking in upon the Swiss,
Destroyed their unoffending commonwealth,
A popular equality doth seem
Here to prevail; and yet a house of state
Stands yonder, one beneath whose roof, methinks,
A rural lord might dwell."
"No feudal pomp,'
Replied our friend, a chronicler who stood
Where'er he moved upon familiar ground-
"Nor feudal power is there; but there abides,
In his allotted home, a genuine Priest,
The shepherd of his flock; or, as a king
Is styled, when most affectionately praised,
The father of his people-such is he;
And rich and poor, and young and old, rejoice
Under his spiritual sway, collected round him
In this sequestered realm. He hath vouchsafed
To me some portion of his kind regard;
And something also of his inner mind
Hath he imparted-but I speak of him
As he is known to all.
"The calm delights Of unambitious piety he chose,
And learning's solid dignity; though born
Of knightly race, not wanting powerful friends.
This good to reap, these pleasures to secure,
Hither, in prime of manhood, he withdrew
From academic bowers. He loved the spot-
Who does not love his native soil ?-he prized
The ancient rural character, composed
Of simple manners, feelings unsuppressed
And undisguised, and strong and serious thought: A character reflected in himself,
With such embellishment as well beseems
His rank and sacred function.
Is lengthened out by many a winding reach,
Not visible to us; and one of these
A turreted manorial hall adorns,
In which the good man's ancestors have dwelt
From age to age, the patrons of this cure..
To them, and to his decorating hand,
The vicar's dwelling, and the whole domain,
Owes that presiding aspect which might well
Attract your notice; statelier than could else
Have been bestowed, in course of common chance,
On an unwealthy mountain benefice."
This said, oft halting, we pursued our way; Nor reached the village church-yard till the sun, Travelling at steadier pace than ours, had risen Above the summits of the highest hills, And round our path darted oppressive beams.
As chanced, the portals of the sacred pile
Stood open; and we entered. On my frame,
At such transition from the fervid air,
A grateful coolness fell, that seemed to strike
The heart, in concert with that temperate awe
And natural reverence which the place inspired.
Not framed to nice proportions was the pile,
But large and massy, for duration built;
With pillars crowded, and the roof upheld
By naked rafters intricately crossed,
Like leafless underboughs in some thick grove,
All withered by the depth of shade above.
Admonitory texts inscribed the walls,
Each in its ornamental scroll enclosed;
Each also crowned with winged heads-a pair
Of rudely-painted cherubim. The floor
Of nave and aisle, in unpretending guise,
Was occupied by oaken benches ranged
In seemly rows; the chancel only showed
Some inoffensive marks of earthly state
And vain distinction. A capacious pew
Of sculptured oak stood here, with drapery lined;
And marble monuments were here displayed
Upon the walls; and on the floor beneath
Sepulchral stones appeared, with emblems graven,
And foot-worn epitaphs, and some with small
And shining effigies of brass inlaid.
The tribute by these various records claimed,
Without reluctance did we pay; and read
The ordinary chronicle of birth,
Office, alliance, and promotion-all
Ending in dust; of upright magistrates,
Grave doctors strenuous for the mother church,
And uncorrupted senators, alike
To king and people true. A brazen plate,
Not easily deciphered, told of one
Whose course of earthly honour was begun
In quality of page among the train
Of the eighth Henry, when he crossed the seas
His royal state to show, and prove his strength
In tournament upon the fields of France.
Another tablet registered the death,
And praised the gallant bearing of a knight,
Tried in the sea-fights of the second Charles.
Near this brave knight his father lay entombed;
And, to the silent language giving voice,
I read how, in his manhood's earlier day,
He, 'mid the afflictions of intestine war,
And rightful government subverted, found
One only solace, that he had espoused
A virtuous lady tenderly beloved
For her benign affections; and for this
Yet more endeared to him, that in her state
Of wedlock richly crowned with Heaven's regard,
She with a numerous issue filled his house,
Who throve, like plants uninjured by the storm
That laid their country waste. No need to speak
Of less particular notices assigned
To youth or maiden gone before their time,
And matrons and unwedded sisters old;
Whose charity and goodness were rehearsed
In modest panegyric. "These dim lines,
What would they tell?" said I; but, from the task
Of puzzling out that faded narrative,
With whisper soft my venerable friend
Called me; and, looking down the darksome aisle,
I saw the tenant of the lonely vale
Standing apart; with curvèd arm reclined
On the baptismal font; his pallid face
Upturned, as if his mind were rapt, or lost
In some abstraction; gracefully he stood,
The semblance bearing of a sculptured form
That leans upon a monumental urn
In peace, from morn to night, from year to year.
Him from that posture did the sexton rouse ; Who entered, humming carelessly a tune, Continuation haply of the notes
That had beguiled the work from which he came, With spade and mattock o'er his shoulder hung; To be deposited, for future need,
In their appointed place. The pale Recluse Withdrew; and straight we followed,-to a spot Where sun and shade were intermixed; for there A broad oak, stretching forth its leafy arms From an adjoining pasture, overhung
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