No More Learning

[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. 160

But when he was first seen, oh me
What shrieking and what misery!
For many saw; among the rest
His Mother, she who loved him best,
She saw her poor blind Boy. 165

But for the child, the sightless Boy,
It is the triumph of his joy!
The bravest traveller in balloon,
Mounting as if to reach the moon,
Was never half so blessed. 170

And let him, let him go his way,
Alone, and innocent, and gay!
For, if good Angels love to wait
On the forlorn unfortunate,
This Child will take no harm. 175

But now the passionate lament,
Which from the crowd on shore was sent,
The cries which broke from old and young
In Gaelic, or the English tongue,
Are stifled--all is still. 180

And quickly with a silent crew
A boat is ready to pursue;
And from the shore their course they take,
And swiftly down the running lake
They follow the blind Boy. 185

But soon they move with softer pace;
So have ye seen the fowler chase
On Grasmere's clear unruffled breast
A youngling of the wild-duck's nest
With deftly-lifted oar; 190

Or as the wily sailors crept
To seize (while on the Deep it slept)
The hapless creature which did dwell
Erewhile within the dancing shell,
They steal upon their prey. [18] 195

With sound the least that can be made,
They follow, more and more afraid,
More cautious as they draw more near;
But in his darkness he can hear,
And guesses their intent. 200

"_Lei-gha--Lei-gha_"--he then cried out,
"_Lei-gha--Lei-gha_"--with eager shout; [19]
Thus did he cry, and thus did pray,
And what he meant was, "Keep away,
And leave me to myself! " [E] 205

Alas! and when he felt their hands--
You've often heard [20] of magic wands,
That with a motion overthrow
A palace of the proudest show,
Or melt it into air: 210

So all his dreams--that inward light
With which his soul had shone so bright--
All vanished;--'twas a heartfelt cross
To him, a heavy, bitter loss,
As he had ever known. 215

But hark! a gratulating voice,
With which the very hills rejoice:
'Tis from the crowd, who tremblingly
Have [21] watched the event, and now can see
That he is safe at last. 220

And then, when he was brought to land,
Full sure they were a happy band,
Which, gathering round, did on the banks
Of that great Water give God thanks,
And welcomed the poor Child. 225

And in the general joy of heart
The blind Boy's little dog took part;
He leapt about, and oft did kiss
His master's hands in sign of bliss,
With sound like lamentation. 230

But most of all, his Mother dear,
She who had fainted with her fear,
Rejoiced when waking she espies
The Child; when she can trust her eyes,
And touches the blind Boy. 235

She led him home, and wept amain,
When he was in the house again:
Tears flowed in torrents from her eyes;
She kissed him--how could she chastise?