They hunt through the streets [8] with deliberate tread,
And each, in his turn, becomes leader or led; [9]
And, wherever they carry their plots and their wiles,
Every face in the village is dimpled with smiles.
And each, in his turn, becomes leader or led; [9]
And, wherever they carry their plots and their wiles,
Every face in the village is dimpled with smiles.
William Wordsworth
[1]
What feats would I work with my magical hand! 5
Book-learning and books should be banished the land: [2]
And, for hunger and thirst and such troublesome calls,
Every ale-house should then have a feast on its walls.
The traveller would hang his wet clothes on a chair;
Let them smoke, let them burn, not a straw. Would he care! 10
For the Prodigal Son, Joseph's Dream and his sheaves,
Oh, what would they be to my tale of two Thieves?
The One, yet unbreeched, is not three birthdays old,[3]
His Grandsire that age more than thirty times told;
There are ninety good seasons of fair and foul weather 15
Between them, and both go a-pilfering [4] together.
With chips is the carpenter strewing his floor?
Is a cart-load of turf [5] at an old woman's door?
Old Daniel his hand to the treasure will slide!
And his Grandson's as busy at work by his side. 20
Old Daniel begins; he stops short--and his eye,
Through the lost look of dotage, is cunning and sly:
'Tis a look which at this time is hardly his own,
But tells a plain tale of the days that are flown.
He once [6] had a heart which was moved by the wires 25
Of manifold pleasures and many desires:
And what if he cherished his purse? 'Twas no more
Than treading a path trod by thousands before.
'Twas a path trod by thousands; but Daniel is one
Who went something farther than others have gone, [7] 30
And now with old Daniel you see how it fares;
You see to what end he has brought his grey hairs.
The pair sally forth hand in hand: ere the sun
Has peered o'er the beeches, their work is begun:
And yet, into whatever sin they may fall, 35
This child but half knows it, and that not at all.
They hunt through the streets [8] with deliberate tread,
And each, in his turn, becomes leader or led; [9]
And, wherever they carry their plots and their wiles,
Every face in the village is dimpled with smiles. 40
Neither checked by the rich nor the needy they roam;
For the grey-headed Sire [10] has a daughter at home,
Who will gladly repair all the damage that's done;
And three, were it asked, would be rendered for one.
Old Man! whom so oft I with pity have eyed, 45
I love thee, and love the sweet Boy at thy side:
Long yet may'st thou live! for a teacher we see
That lifts up the veil of our nature in thee. [B]
* * * * *
VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
[Variant 1:
1800.
Oh! now that the boxwood and graver were mine,
Of the Poet who lives on the banks of the Tyne,
Who has plied his rude tools with more fortunate toil
Than Reynolds e'er brought to his canvas and oil.
MS. 1798. ]
[Variant 2:
1800.
Then Books, and Book-learning, I'd ring out your knell,
The Vicar should scarce know an A from an L. MS. 1798. ]
[Variant 3:
1820.
Little Dan is unbreech'd, he is three birth-days old, 1800.
What feats would I work with my magical hand! 5
Book-learning and books should be banished the land: [2]
And, for hunger and thirst and such troublesome calls,
Every ale-house should then have a feast on its walls.
The traveller would hang his wet clothes on a chair;
Let them smoke, let them burn, not a straw. Would he care! 10
For the Prodigal Son, Joseph's Dream and his sheaves,
Oh, what would they be to my tale of two Thieves?
The One, yet unbreeched, is not three birthdays old,[3]
His Grandsire that age more than thirty times told;
There are ninety good seasons of fair and foul weather 15
Between them, and both go a-pilfering [4] together.
With chips is the carpenter strewing his floor?
Is a cart-load of turf [5] at an old woman's door?
Old Daniel his hand to the treasure will slide!
And his Grandson's as busy at work by his side. 20
Old Daniel begins; he stops short--and his eye,
Through the lost look of dotage, is cunning and sly:
'Tis a look which at this time is hardly his own,
But tells a plain tale of the days that are flown.
He once [6] had a heart which was moved by the wires 25
Of manifold pleasures and many desires:
And what if he cherished his purse? 'Twas no more
Than treading a path trod by thousands before.
'Twas a path trod by thousands; but Daniel is one
Who went something farther than others have gone, [7] 30
And now with old Daniel you see how it fares;
You see to what end he has brought his grey hairs.
The pair sally forth hand in hand: ere the sun
Has peered o'er the beeches, their work is begun:
And yet, into whatever sin they may fall, 35
This child but half knows it, and that not at all.
They hunt through the streets [8] with deliberate tread,
And each, in his turn, becomes leader or led; [9]
And, wherever they carry their plots and their wiles,
Every face in the village is dimpled with smiles. 40
Neither checked by the rich nor the needy they roam;
For the grey-headed Sire [10] has a daughter at home,
Who will gladly repair all the damage that's done;
And three, were it asked, would be rendered for one.
Old Man! whom so oft I with pity have eyed, 45
I love thee, and love the sweet Boy at thy side:
Long yet may'st thou live! for a teacher we see
That lifts up the veil of our nature in thee. [B]
* * * * *
VARIANTS ON THE TEXT
[Variant 1:
1800.
Oh! now that the boxwood and graver were mine,
Of the Poet who lives on the banks of the Tyne,
Who has plied his rude tools with more fortunate toil
Than Reynolds e'er brought to his canvas and oil.
MS. 1798. ]
[Variant 2:
1800.
Then Books, and Book-learning, I'd ring out your knell,
The Vicar should scarce know an A from an L. MS. 1798. ]
[Variant 3:
1820.
Little Dan is unbreech'd, he is three birth-days old, 1800.
