No More Learning

--The whistling swain that plods his ringing way
Where the slow waggon winds along the bay;
The sugh [v] of swallow flocks that twittering sweep,
The solemn curfew swinging long and deep;
The talking boat that moves with pensive sound,
Or drops his anchor down with plunge profound;
Of boys that bathe remote the faint uproar,
And restless piper wearying out the shore;
These all to swell the village murmurs blend,
That soften'd from the water-head descend.
While in sweet cadence rising small and still
The far-off minstrels of the haunted hill,
As the last bleating of the fold expires,
Tune in the mountain dells their water lyres.

Only in the edition of 1793. ]


[Variant 87:

1845.

. . . of the night; 1793. ]


[Variant 88:

1815.

Thence, from three paly loopholes mild and small,
Slow lights upon the lake's still bosom fall, 1793. ]


[Variant 89:

1827.

Beyond the mountain's giant reach that hides
In deep determin'd gloom his subject tides.
--Mid the dark steeps repose the shadowy streams,
As touch'd with dawning moonlight's hoary gleams,
Long streaks of fairy light the wave illume
With bordering lines of intervening gloom, 1793.

The second and third of these couplets were cancelled in the edition of
1815, and the whole passage was withdrawn in 1827. ]


[Variant 90:

1836.
Soft o'er the surface creep the lustres pale
Tracking with silvering path the changeful gale. 1793.

. . . those lustres pale
Tracking the fitful motions of the gale. 1815. ]


[Variant 91:

1815.

--'Tis restless magic all; at once the bright [vi]
Breaks on the shade, the shade upon the light,
Fair Spirits are abroad; in sportive chase
Brushing with lucid wands the water's face,
While music stealing round the glimmering deeps
Charms the tall circle of th' enchanted steeps.
--As thro' th' astonished woods the notes ascend,
The mountain streams their rising song suspend;
Below Eve's listening Star, the sheep walk stills
It's drowsy tinklings on th' attentive hills;
The milkmaid stops her ballad, and her pail
Stays it's low murmur in th' unbreathing vale;
No night-duck clamours for his wilder'd mate,
Aw'd, while below the Genii hold their state.
--The pomp is fled, and mute the wondrous strains,
No wrack of all the pageant scene remains,
[vii] So vanish those fair Shadows, human Joys,
But Death alone their vain regret destroys.
Unheeded Night has overcome the vales,
On the dark earth the baffl'd vision fails,
If peep between the clouds a star on high,
There turns for glad repose the weary eye;
The latest lingerer of the forest train,
The lone-black fir, forsakes the faded plain;
Last evening sight, the cottage smoke no more,
Lost in the deepen'd darkness, glimmers hoar;
High towering from the sullen dark-brown mere,
Like a black wall, the mountain steeps appear,
Thence red from different heights with restless gleam
Small cottage lights across the water stream,
Nought else of man or life remains behind
To call from other worlds the wilder'd mind,
Till pours the wakeful bird her solemn strains
[viii] Heard by the night-calm of the watry plains.
--No purple prospects now the mind employ
Glowing in golden sunset tints of joy,
But o'er the sooth'd . . .

Only in the edition of 1793.