No More Learning

[31] If here he stay,
What can be done? Where every one is poor,
What can be gained? " 260
At this the old Man paused,
And Isabel sat silent, for her mind
Was busy, looking back into past times.
There's Richard Bateman, thought she to herself, [E]
He was a parish-boy--at the church-door 265
They made a gathering for him, shillings, pence
And halfpennies, wherewith the neighbours bought
A basket, which they filled with pedlar's wares;
And, with this basket on his arm, the lad
Went up to London, found a master there, 270
Who, out of many, chose the trusty boy
To go and overlook his merchandise
Beyond the seas; where he grew wondrous rich,
And left estates and monies to the poor,
And, at his birth-place, built a chapel floored 275
With marble, which he sent from foreign lands.
These thoughts, and many others of like sort,
Passed quickly through the mind of Isabel,
And her face brightened. The old Man was glad,
And thus resumed:--"Well, Isabel! this scheme 280
These two days, has been meat and drink to me.
Far more than we have lost is left us yet.
--We have enough--I wish indeed that I
Were younger;--but this hope is a good hope.
Make ready Luke's best garments, of the best 285
Buy for him more, and let us send him forth
To-morrow, or the next day, or to-night:
--If he _could_ [32] go, the Boy should go to-night. "

Here Michael ceased, and to the fields went forth
With a light heart. [F] The Housewife for five days 290
Was restless morn and night, and all day long
Wrought on with her best fingers to prepare
Things needful for the journey of her son.
But Isabel was glad when Sunday came
To stop her in her work: for, when she lay 295
By Michael's side, she through the last two nights [33]
Heard him, how he was troubled in his sleep:
And when they rose at morning she could see
That all his hopes were gone. That day at noon
She said to Luke, while they two by themselves 300
Were sitting at the door, "Thou must not go:
We have no other Child but thee to lose,
None to remember--do not go away,
For if thou leave thy Father he will die. "
The Youth [34] made answer with a jocund voice; 305
And Isabel, when she had told her fears,
Recovered heart.
That evening her best fare
Did she bring forth, and all together sat
Like happy people round a Christmas fire.

With daylight [35] Isabel resumed her work; 310
And all the ensuing week the house appeared
As cheerful as a grove in Spring: at length
The expected letter from their kinsman came,
With kind assurances that he would do
His utmost for the welfare of the Boy; 315
To which, requests were added, that forthwith
He might be sent to him. Ten times or more
The letter was read over; Isabel
Went forth to show it to the neighbours round;
Nor was there at that time on English land 320
A prouder heart than Luke's. When Isabel
Had to her house returned, the old Man said,
"He shall depart to-morrow. " To this word
The Housewife answered, talking much of things
Which, if at such short notice he should go, 325
Would surely be forgotten. But at length
She gave consent, and Michael was at ease.

Near the tumultuous brook of Green-head Ghyll,
In that deep valley, Michael had designed
To build a Sheep-fold; [G] and, before he heard 330
The tidings of his melancholy loss,
For this same purpose he had gathered up
A heap of stones, which by the streamlet's edge [36]
Lay thrown together, ready for the work.
With Luke that evening thitherward he walked: 335
And soon as they had reached the place he stopped,
And thus the old Man spake to him:--"My Son,
To-morrow thou wilt leave me: with full heart
I look upon thee, for thou art the same
That wert a promise to me ere thy birth, 340
And all thy life hast been my daily joy.
I will relate to thee some little part
Of our two histories; 'twill do thee good
When thou art from me, even if I should touch
On things [37] thou canst not know of. --After thou 345
First cam'st into the world--as oft befals [38]
To new-born infants--thou didst sleep away
Two days, and blessings from thy Father's tongue
Then fell upon thee. Day by day passed on,
And still I loved thee with increasing love. 350
Never to living ear came sweeter sounds
Than when I heard thee by our own fire-side
First uttering, without words, a natural tune;
While [39] thou, a feeding babe, didst in thy joy
Sing at thy Mother's breast. Month followed month, 355
And in the open fields my life was passed
And on [40] the mountains; else I think that thou
Hadst been brought up upon thy Father's knees.
But we were playmates, Luke: among these hills,
As well thou knowest, in us the old and young 360
Have played together, nor with me didst thou
Lack any pleasure which a boy can know. "
Luke had a manly heart; but at these words
He sobbed aloud. The old Man grasped his hand,
And said, "Nay, do not take it so--I see 365
That these are things of which I need not speak.