Her buoyant Spirit can prevail

Where common cheerfulness would fail
She strikes upon him with the heat
Of July Suns; he feels it sweet;

An animal delight though dim!
'Tis all that now remains for him!

;

-

The more I looked, I wondered more And, while I scanned them o'er and o'er,

A moment gave me to espy

A trouble in her strong black

A remnant of uneasy light,

eye;

A flash of something over-bright!
Nor long this mystery did detain
My thoughts; she told in pensive strain
That she had borne a heavy yoke,
Been stricken by a twofold stroke;
Ill health of body; and had pined
Beneath worse ailments of the mind.

So be it! but let praise ascend To Him who is our Lord and Friend! Who from disease and suffering

Hath called for thee a second Spring;

Repaid thee for that sore distress

By no untimely joyousness;

Which makes of thine a blissful state; And cheers thy melancholy Mate!

XIV.

FLY, some kind Spirit, fly to Grasmere-dale,
Say that we come, and come by this day's light;
Glad tidings! spread them over field and height;
But chiefly let one Cottage hear the tale;
There let a mystery of joy prevail,

The happy Kitten bound with frolic might,
And Rover whine, as at a second sight

Of near-approaching good that shall not fail;-
And from that Infant's face let joy appear;
Yea, let our Mary's one Companion Child,

That hath her six weeks' solitude beguiled

With intimations manifold and dear,

While we have wandered over wood and wild,

Smile on his Mother now with bolder cheer.

"

XV.

THE BLIND HIGHLAND BOY.

A TALE TOLD BY THE FIRE-SIDE, AFTER RETURNING TO THE VALE OF GRASMERE.

Now we are tired of boisterous joy,
Have romped enough, my little Boy!
Jane hangs her head upon my breast,
And
you shall bring your stool and rest;
This corner is your own.

There! take your seat, and let me see
That you can listen quietly;

And, as I promised, I will tell

That strange adventure which befel

A poor blind Highland Boy.

A Highland Boy!-why call him so?
Because, my Darlings, ye must know,
In land where many a mountain towers,
Far higher hills than these of ours!
He from his birth had lived.

He ne'er had seen one earthly sight;
The sun, the day; the stars, the night;
Or tree, or butterfly, or flower,

Or fish in stream, or bird in bower,
Or woman, man, or child.

And yet he neither drooped nor pined,

Nor had a melancholy mind;

For God took pity on the Boy,

And was his friend; and gave him joy Of which we nothing know.

His Mother, too, no doubt, above
Her other Children him did love:

For, was she here, or was she there,
She thought of him with constant care,
And more than Mother's love.