Her homely tale with such familiar power, With such an active countenance, an eye 210 So busy, that the things of which he spake Seemed present, and, attention now relaxed, There was a heartfelt chillness in my veins. I rose, and turning from that breezy shade Went out into the open air, and stood 215 To drink the comfort of the warmer sun. Long time I had not stayed ere, looking round Upon that tranquil ruin, I returned And begged of the old man that for my sake He would resume his story. He replied, 220 It were a wantonness, and would demand Severe reproof, if we were men whose hearts Could hold vain dalliance with the misery Even of the dead contented thence to draw A momentary pleasure, never marked 225 By reason, barren of all future good. But we have known that there is often found In mournful thoughts, and always might be found, A power to virtue friendly; were’t not so I am a dreamer among men, indeed 230 An idle dreamer, Tis a common tale By moving accidents uncharactered, A tale of silent suffering, hardly clothed In bodily form, and to the grosser sense But ill adapted — scarcely palpable 235 To him who does not think. But at your bidding I will proceed. While thus it fared with them To whom this cottage till that hapless year Had been a blessed home» it was my chance To travel in a country far remote; 240 And glad I was when, halting by yon gate That leads from the green lane, again I saw These lofty elm-trees. Long I did not rest — With many pleasant thoughts I cheered my way O'er the flat common. At the door arrived, 245 I knocked, and when I entered, with the hope Of usual greeting, Margaret looked at me A little while, then turned her head away Speechless, and sitting down upon a chair Wept bitterly. I wist not what to do, 250 Or how to speak to her. Poor wretch! At last She rose from off her seat — and then, oh sir! I cannot tell how she pronounced my name: With fervent love, and with a face of grief Unutterably helpless, and a look 255 That seemed to cling upon me, she enquired If I had seen her husband. As she spake A strange surprise and fear came to my heart, Nor had I power to answer ere she told That he had disappeared — just two months gone- 260 He left his house: two wretched days had passed, And on the third by the first break of light, Within her casement full in view she saw A purse of gold. 'I trembled at the sight', That placed it there, And on that very day By one, a stranger, from my husband sent, The tidings came that he had joined a troop Of soldiers going to a distant land. He left me thus. Poor man, he had not heart 270 To take a farewell of me, and he feared That I should follow with my babes, and sink Beneath the misery of a soldier's life”. This tale did Margaret tell with many tears, And when she ended I had little power 275 To give her comfort, and was glad to take Such words of hope from her own mouth as served To cheer us both. But long we had not talked Ere we built up a pile of better thoughts, And with a brighter eye she looked around 280 As if she had been shedding tears of joy. We parted. It was then the early spring; I left her busy with her garden tools, And well remember, o'er that fence she looked, And, while I paced along the footway path, 285 Called our and sent a blessing after me, With tender cheerfulness, and with a voice That seemed the very sound of happy thoughts. I roved o'er many a hill and many a dale With this my weary load, in heat'and cold, 290 Through many a wood and many an open ground, In sunshine or in shade, in wet or fair, Now blithe, now drooping, as it might befall; My best companions now the driving winds And now the 'trotting brooks' and whispering trees, 295 And now the music of my own sad steps, With many a short-lived thought that passed between And disappeared. I came this way again Towards the wane of summer, when the wheat Was yellow, and the sofr and bladed grass 300 Sprang up afresh and o'er the hayfield spread Its tender green. When I had reached the door I found that she was absent. In the shade Where we now sit I waited her return. Her cottage in its outward look appeared 305 As cheerful as before, in any show
