And thus, to Betty's question, he Wordsworth. STRAY PLEASURES. "Pleasure is spread through the earth In stray gifts to be claimed by whoever shall find." By their floating mill, That lies dead and still, Behold yon prisoners three, The miller with two dames, on the breast of the Thames ! The platform is small, but gives room for all; And they're dancing merrily. From the shore come the notes To their mill where it floats, To their house and their mill tethered fast: 4 To the small wooden isle where, their work to beguile, They from morning to even take whatever is given ; And many a blithe day they have past. In sight of the spires, All alive with the fires Of the sun going down to his rest, In the broad open eye of the solitary sky, They dance, there are three, as jocund as free, While they dance on the calm river's breast. Men and Maidens wheel, They themselves make the reel, And their music's a prey which they seize : It plays not for them,-what matter? 'tis theirs ; And if they had care, it has scattered their cares, While they dance, crying, "Long as ye please!" They dance not for me, Yet mine is their glee ! Thus pleasure is spread through the earth In stray gifts to be claimed by whoever shall find: Thus a rich loving-kindness, redundantly kind, Moves all nature to gladness and mirth. The showers of the spring Rouse the birds, and they sing ; If the wind do but stir for his proper delight, Each leaf, that and this, his neighbour will kiss : Each wave, one and t' other, speeds after his brother; They are happy, for that is their right! THE PET LAMB. Wordsworth. The dew was falling fast, the stars began to blink; I heard a voice; it said, "Drink, pretty creature, drink!" And, looking o'er the hedge, before me I espied A snow-white mountain-lamb, with a maiden at its side. Nor sheep nor kine were near; the lamb was all alone, And by a slender cord was tethered to a stone; With one knee on the grass did the little maiden kneel, While to that mountain-lamb she gave its evening meal. The lamb, while from her hand he thus his supper took, Seemed to feast with head and ears; and his tail with pleasure shook. "Drink, pretty creature, drink," she said in such a tone That I almost received her heart into my own. 'Twas little Barbara Lewthwaite, a child of beauty rare! I watched them with delight, they were a lovely pair. Now with her empty can the maiden turned away: But ere ten yards were gone her footsteps did she stay. Right towards the lamb she looked: and from a shady place I unobserved could see the workings of her face; If Nature to her tongue could measured numbers bring, Thus, thought I, to her lamb the little maid might sing: "What ails thee, young one? what? so at thy cord? Why pull Is it not well with thee? well both for bed and board? Thy plot of grass is soft, and green as grass can be: Rest, little young one, rest; what is 't that aileth thee? "What is it thou wouldst seek? What is wanting to thy heart ? Thy limbs, are they not strong? And beautifu thou art : This grass is tender grass: these flowers they have no peers: And that green corn all day is rustling in thy ears! "If the sun be shining hot, do but stretch thy woollen chain, This beech is standing by, its covert thou canst gain; For rain and mountain-storms! the like thou needst not fear, The rain and storm are things that scarcely can come here. |