No More Learning

480
Earth, spangled sky, and lake serene,
Involved and restless all--a scene
Pregnant with mutual exaltation,
Rich change, and multiplied creation!
This sight to me the Muse imparts;--485
And then, what kindness in their hearts!
What tears of rapture, what vow-making,
Profound entreaties, and hand-shaking!
What solemn, vacant, interlacing,
As if they'd fall asleep embracing! 490
Then, in the turbulence of glee,
And in the excess of amity,
Says Benjamin, "That Ass of thine,
He spoils thy sport, and hinders mine:
If he were tethered to the waggon, 495
He'd drag as well what he is dragging;
And we, as brother should with brother,
Might trudge it alongside each other! "

Forthwith, obedient to command,
The horses made a quiet stand; 500
And to the waggon's skirts was tied
The Creature, by the Mastiff's side,
The Mastiff wondering, and perplext
With dread of what will happen next;
And thinking it but sorry cheer, 505
To have such company so near! [47]

This new arrangement made, the Wain
Through the still night proceeds again;
No Moon hath risen her light to lend;
But indistinctly may be kenned 510
The VANGUARD, following close behind,
Sails spread, as if to catch the wind!

"Thy wife and child are snug and warm,
Thy ship will travel without harm;
I like," said Benjamin, "her shape and stature: 515
And this of mine--this bulky creature
Of which I have the steering--this,
Seen fairly, is not much amiss!
We want your streamers, friend, you know;
But, altogether [48] as we go, 520
We make a kind of handsome show!
Among these hills, from first to last,
We've weathered many a furious blast;
Hard passage forcing on, with head
Against the storm, and canvass spread. 525
I hate a boaster; but to thee
Will say't, who know'st both land and sea,
The unluckiest hulk that stems [49] the brine
Is hardly worse beset than mine,
When cross-winds on her quarter beat; 530
And, fairly lifted from my feet,
I stagger onward--heaven knows how;
But not so pleasantly as now:
Poor pilot I, by snows confounded,
And many a foundrous pit surrounded! 535
Yet here we are, by night and day
Grinding through rough and smooth our way;
Through foul and fair our task fulfilling;
And long shall be so yet--God willing! "

"Ay," said the Tar, "through fair and foul--540
But save us from yon screeching owl! "
That instant was begun a fray
Which called their thoughts another way:
The mastiff, ill-conditioned carl!
What must he do but growl and snarl, 545
Still more and more dissatisfied
With the meek comrade at his side!
Till, not incensed though put to proof,
The Ass, uplifting a hind hoof,
Salutes the Mastiff on the head; 550
And so were better manners bred,
And all was calmed and quieted.

"Yon screech-owl," says the Sailor, turning
Back to his former cause of mourning,
"Yon owl! --pray God that all be well! 555
'Tis worse than any funeral bell;
As sure as I've the gift of sight,
We shall be meeting ghosts to-night! "
--Said Benjamin, "This whip shall lay
A thousand, if they cross our way. 560
I know that Wanton's noisy station,
I know him and his occupation;
The jolly bird hath learned his cheer
Upon [50] the banks of Windermere;
Where a tribe of them make merry, 565
Mocking the Man that keeps the ferry;
Hallooing from an open throat,
Like travellers shouting for a boat.
--The tricks he learned at Windermere
This vagrant owl is playing here--570
That is the worst of his employment:
He's at the top [51] of his enjoyment! "

This explanation stilled the alarm,
Cured the foreboder like a charm;
This, and the manner, and the voice, 575
Summoned the Sailor to rejoice;
His heart is up--he fears no evil
From life or death, from man or devil;
He wheels [52]--and, making many stops,
Brandished his crutch against the mountain tops; 580
And, while he talked of blows and scars,
Benjamin, among the stars,
Beheld a dancing--and a glancing;
Such retreating and advancing
As, I ween, was never seen 585
In bloodiest battle since the days of Mars!



CANTO FOURTH


Thus they, with freaks of proud delight,
Beguile the remnant of the night;
And many a snatch of jovial song
Regales them as they wind along; 590
While to the music, from on high,
The echoes make a glad reply. --
But the sage Muse the revel heeds
No farther than her story needs;
Nor will she servilely attend 595
The loitering journey to its end.
--Blithe spirits of her own impel
The Muse, who scents the morning air,
To take of this transported pair
A brief and unreproved farewell; 600
To quit the slow-paced waggon's side,
And wander down yon hawthorn dell,
With murmuring Greta for her guide.
--There doth she ken the awful form
Of Raven-crag--black as a storm--605
Glimmering through the twilight pale;
And Ghimmer-crag, [K] his tall twin brother,
Each peering forth to meet the other:--
And, while she roves [53] through St. John's Vale,
Along the smooth unpathwayed plain, 610
By sheep-track or through cottage lane,
Where no disturbance comes to intrude
Upon the pensive solitude,
Her unsuspecting eye, perchance,
With the rude shepherd's favoured glance, 615
Beholds the faeries in array,
Whose party-coloured garments gay
The silent company betray:
Red, green, and blue; a moment's sight!
For Skiddaw-top with rosy light 620
Is touched--and all the band take flight.
--Fly also, Muse! and from the dell
Mount to the ridge of Nathdale Fell;
Thence, look thou forth o'er wood and lawn
Hoar with the frost-like dews of dawn; 625
Across yon meadowy bottom look,
Where close fogs hide their parent brook;
And see, beyond that hamlet small,
The ruined towers of Threlkeld-hall,
Lurking in a double shade, 630
By trees and lingering twilight made!