No More Learning

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And proud she was of heart, when clad
In crimson stockings, tartan plaid,
And bonnet with a feather gay,
To Kirk he on the sabbath day
Went hand in hand with her. 35

A dog too, had he; not for need,
But one to play with and to feed;
Which would [5] have led him, if bereft
Of company or friends, and left
Without a better guide. 40

And then the bagpipes he could blow--
And thus from house to house would go;
And all were pleased to hear and see,
For none made sweeter melody
Than did the poor blind Boy. 45

Yet he had many a restless dream;
Both when he heard the eagles scream,
And when he heard the torrents roar,
And heard the water beat the shore
Near which their cottage stood. 50

Beside a lake their cottage stood,
Not small like ours, a peaceful flood;
But one of mighty size, and strange;
That, rough or smooth, is full of change,
And stirring in its bed. 55

For to this lake, by night and day,
The great Sea-water finds its way
Through long, long windings of the hills
And drinks up all the pretty [B] rills
And rivers large and strong: [C] 60

Then hurries back the road it came--
Returns, on errand still the same;
This did it when the earth was new;
And this for evermore will do,
As long as earth shall last. 65

And, with the coming of the tide,
Come boats and ships that safely [6] ride
Between the woods and lofty rocks;
And to the shepherds with their flocks
Bring tales of distant lands. 70

And of those tales, whate'er they were,
The blind Boy always had his share;
Whether of mighty towns, or vales
With warmer suns and softer gales,
Or wonders of the Deep. 75

Yet more it pleased him, more it stirred,
When from the water-side he heard
The shouting, and the jolly cheers;
The bustle of the mariners
In stillness or in storm. 80

But what do his desires avail?
For He must never handle sail;
Nor mount the mast, nor row, nor float
In sailor's ship, or fisher's boat,
Upon the rocking waves. 85

His Mother often thought, and said,
What sin would be upon her head
If she should suffer this: "My Son,
Whate'er you do, leave this undone;
The danger is so great. " 90

Thus lived he by Loch-Leven's side
Still sounding with the sounding tide,
And heard the billows leap and dance,
Without a shadow of mischance,
Till he was ten years old. 95

When one day (and now mark me well,
Ye [7] soon shall know how this befell)
He in a vessel of his own,
On the swift flood is hurrying down,
Down to the mighty Sea. [8] 100

In such a vessel never more
May human creature leave the Shore!
[9]
If this or that way he should stir,
Woe to the poor blind Mariner!
For death will be his doom. 105
[10]
But say what bears him? --Ye have seen
The Indian's bow, his arrows keen,
Rare beasts, and birds with plumage bright;
Gifts which, for wonder or delight,
Are brought in ships from far. [11] 110

[D] Such gifts had those seafaring men
Spread round that haven in the glen;
Each hut, perchance, might have its own;
And to the Boy they all were known--
He knew and prized them all. 115

The rarest was a Turtle-shell
Which he, poor Child, had studied well;
A shell of ample size, and light
As the pearly car of Amphitrite,
That sportive dolphins drew. [12] 120

And, as a Coracle that braves
On Vaga's breast the fretful waves,
This shell upon the deep would swim,
And gaily lift its fearless brim
Above the tossing surge. [13] 125

And this the little blind Boy knew:
And he a story strange yet true
Had heard, how in a shell like this
An English Boy, O thought of bliss!
Had stoutly launched from shore; 130

Launched from the margin of a bay
Among the Indian isles, where lay
His father's ship, and had sailed far--
To join that gallant ship of war,
In his delightful shell. 135

Our Highland Boy oft visited
'The house that [14] held this prize; and, led
By choice or chance, did thither come
One day when no one was at home,
And found the door unbarred. 140

While there he sate, alone and blind,
That story flashed upon his mind;--
A bold thought roused him, and he took
The shell from out its secret nook,
And bore it on his head. [15] 145

He launched his vessel,--and in pride
Of spirit, from Loch-Leven's side,
Stepped into it--his thoughts all free
As the light breezes that with glee
Sang through the adventurer's hair. [16] 150

A while he stood upon his feet;
He felt the motion--took his seat;
Still better pleased as more and more
The tide retreated from the shore,
And sucked, and sucked him in. [17] 155

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.