And there he is, in face of Heaven.

How rapidly the Child is driven !

The fourth part of a mile I ween He thus had gone, ere he was seen By any human eye.

But when he was first seen, oh me
What shrieking and what misery!
For many saw; among the rest
His Mother, she who loved him best,
She saw her poor blind Boy.

But for the Child, the sightless Boy,
It is the triumph of his joy!
The bravest Traveller in balloon,
Mounting as if to reach the moon,
Was never half so bless'd.

And let him, let him go his way,
Alone, and innocent, and gay!
For, if good Angels love to wait
On the forlorn unfortunate,

This Child will take no harm.

But now the passionate lament,

Which from the crowd on shore was sent,

The cries which broke from old and young In Gaelic, or the English tongue,

Are stifled-all is still.

And quickly, with a silent crew,

A Boat is ready to pursue;

And from the shore their course they take, And swiftly down the running Lake

They follow the blind Boy.

But soon they move with softer pace;
So have ye seen the fowler chase,
On Grasmere's clear unruffled breast,
A Youngling of the wild-duck's nest,
With deftly-lifted oar.

Or, as the wily Sailors crept

To seize (while on the Deep it slept)
The hapless Creature which did dwell,
Erewhile, within the dancing Shell,

They steal upon their prey.

With sound the least that can be made They follow, more and more afraid, More cautious as they draw more near; But in his darkness he can hear,

And guesses their intent.

"Lei-gha-Lei-gha" - then did he cry "Lei-gha-Lei-gha❞—most eagerly; Thus did he cry, and thus did pray, And what he meant was, "Keep away, And leave me to myself!"

Alas! and when he felt their hands
You've often heard of magic Wands,
That with a motion overthrow
A palace of the proudest show,
Or melt it into air.

So all his dreams, that inward light With which his soul had shone so bright, All vanish'd;-'twas a heartfelt cross

To him, a heavy, bitter loss,

As he had ever known.

But hark! a gratulating voice

With which the very hills rejoice:
'Tis from the crowd, who, tremblingly,
Had watch'd the event, and now can see
That he is safe at last.

And then, when he was brought to land,
Full sure they were a happy band,
Which, gathering round, did on the banks
Of that great Water give God thanks,

And welcomed the poor

And in the general joy of heart

Child.

The blind's Boy's little Dog took part;
He leapt about, and oft did kiss
His master's hands in sign of bliss,
With sound like lamentation.

But most of all, his Mother dear,
She who had fainted with her fear,
Rejoiced when, waking, she espies
The Child; when she can trust her eyes,
And touches the blind Boy.

She led him home, and wept amain,
When he was in the house again :
Tears flowed in torrents from her eyes;
She could not blame him, or chastise:
She was too happy far.

Thus, after he had fondly braved
The perilous Deep, the Boy was saved;
And, though his fancies had been wild,
Yet he was pleased, and reconciled
To live in peace on shore.

And in the lonely Highland Dell
Still do they keep the Turtle shell;
And long the Story will repeat
Of the Blind Boy's adventurous feat,
And how he was preserved. *

* See note at the end of this Volume.