Stood single, with large prospect North and South, High into Easedale, up to Dunmal-Raise,
And Westward to the village near the Lake.
And from this constant light so regular
And so far seen, the House itself by all
Who dwelt within the limits of the vale,
Both old and young, was nam'd The Evening Stat.
Thus living on through such a length of years, The Shepherd, if he lov'd himself, must needs. Have lov'd his Help-mate; but to Michael's heart This Son of his old age was yet more dear- Effect which might perhaps have been produc'd By that instinctive tenderness, the same
Blind Spirit, which is in the blood of all,
Or that a child, more than all other gifts, Brings hope with it, and forward-looking thoughts, And stirrings of inquietude, when they By tendency of nature needs must fail.
From such, and other causes, to the thoughts Of the old Man his only Son was now
The dearest object that he knew on earth. Exceeding was the love he bare to him,
His Heart and his Heart's joy! For oftentimes Old Michael, while he was a babe in arms, Had done him female service, not alone For dalliance and delight, as is the use Of Fathers, but with patient mind enforc'd To acts of tenderness; and he had rock'd His cradle with a woman's gentle hand.
And in a later time, ere yet the Boy Had put on Boy's attire, did Michael love, Albeit of a stern unbending mind,
To have the young one in his sight, when he Had work by his own door, or when he sate With sheep before him on his Shepherd's stool, Beneath that large old Oak, which near their door
Stood, and from it's enormous breadth of shade Chosen for the Shearer's covert from the sun, Thence in our rustic dialect was call'd
The CLIPPING TREE,* a name which yet it bears. There, while they two were sitting in the shade, With others round them, earnest all and blithe, Would Michael exercise his heart with looks Of fond correction and reproof bestow'd Upon the child, if he disturb'd the sheep By catching at their legs, or with his shouts Scar'd them, while they lay still beneath the shears.
And when by Heaven's good grace the Boy grew up A healthy Lad, and carried in his cheek Two steady roses that were five years old,
Then Michael from a winter coppice cut With his own hand a sapling, which he hoop'd
* Clipping is the word used in the North of England for shearing.
With iron, making it throughout in all Due requisites a perfect Shepherd's Staff, And gave it to the Boy; wherewith equipp'd He as à Watchman oftentimes was plac'd At gate or gap, to stem or turn the flock, And to his office prematurely call'd There stood the urchin, as you will divine, Something between a hindrance and a help, And for this cause not always, I believe, Receiving from his Father hire of praise.
While this good household thus were living on From day to day, to Michael's ear there came Distressful tidings. Long before the time Of which I speak, the Shepherd had been bound In surety for his Brother's Son, a man
Of an industrious life, and ample means, But unforeseen misfortunes suddenly
Had press'd upon him, and old Michael now
Was summon'd to discharge the forfeiture,
A grievous penalty, but little less
Than half his substance. This un-look'd for claim
At the first hearing, for a moment took
More hope out of his life than he supposed That any old man ever could have lost.
As soon as he had gather'd so much strength That he could look his trouble in the face,
It seem'd that his sole refuge was to sell A portion of his patrimonial fields.
Such was his first resolve; he thought again,
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