No More Learning

--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!
There, at Blencathara's rugged feet,
Sir Lancelot gave a safe retreat
To noble Clifford; from annoy
Concealed the persecuted boy, 635
Well pleased in rustic garb to feed
His flock, and pipe on shepherd's reed
Among this multitude of hills,
Crags, woodlands, waterfalls, and rills;
Which soon the morning shall enfold, 640
From east to west, in ample vest
Of massy gloom and radiance bold.

The mists, that o'er the streamlet's bed
Hung low, begin to rise and spread;
Even while I speak, their skirts of grey 645
Are smitten by a silver ray;
And lo! --up Castrigg's naked steep
(Where, smoothly urged, the vapours sweep
Along--and scatter and divide,
Like fleecy clouds self-multiplied) 650
The stately waggon is ascending,
With faithful Benjamin attending,
Apparent now beside his team--
Now lost amid a glittering steam: [54]
And with him goes his Sailor-friend, 655
By this time near their journey's end;
And, after their high-minded riot,
Sickening into thoughtful quiet;
As if the morning's pleasant hour,
Had for their joys a killing power. 660
And, sooth, for Benjamin a vein
Is opened of still deeper pain,
As if his heart by notes were stung
From out the lowly hedge-rows flung;
As if the warbler lost in light [L] 665
Reproved his soarings of the night,
In strains of rapture pure and holy
Upbraided his distempered folly. [55]

Drooping is he, his step is dull; [56]
But the horses stretch and pull; 670
With increasing vigour climb,
Eager to repair lost time;
Whether, by their own desert,
Knowing what cause there is [57] for shame,
They are labouring to avert 675
As much as may be of the blame, [58]
Which, they foresee, must soon alight
Upon _his_ head, whom, in despite
Of all his failings, they love best; [59]
Whether for him they are distrest, 680
Or, by length of fasting roused,
Are impatient to be housed:
Up against the hill they strain
Tugging at the iron chain,
Tugging all with might and main, 685
Last and foremost, every horse
To the utmost of his force!
And the smoke and respiration,
Rising like an exhalation,
Blend [60] with the mist--a moving shroud 690
To form, an undissolving cloud;
Which, with slant ray, the merry sun
Takes delight to play upon.
Never golden-haired Apollo,
Pleased some favourite chief to follow 695
Through accidents of peace or war,
In a perilous moment threw
Around the object of his care
Veil of such celestial hue; [61]
Interposed so bright a screen--700
Him and his enemies between!

Alas! what boots it?
--who can hide,
When the malicious Fates are bent
On working out an ill intent?
Can destiny be turned aside? 705
No--sad progress of my story!
Benjamin, this outward glory
Cannot shield [62] thee from thy Master,
Who from Keswick has pricked forth,
Sour and surly as the north; 710
And, in fear of some disaster,
Comes to give what help he may,
And [63] to hear what thou canst say;
If, as needs he must forebode, [64]
Thou hast been loitering [65] on the road! 715
His fears, his doubts, [66] may now take flight--
The wished-for object is in sight;
Yet, trust the Muse, it rather hath
Stirred him up to livelier wrath;
Which he stifles, moody man! 720
With all the patience that he can;
To the end that, at your meeting,
He may give thee decent greeting.

There he is--resolved to stop,
Till the waggon gains the top; 725
But stop he cannot--must advance:
Him Benjamin, with lucky glance,
Espies--and instantly is ready,
Self-collected, poised, and steady:
And, to be the better seen, 730
Issues from his radiant shroud,
From his close-attending cloud,
With careless air and open mien.
Erect his port, and firm his going;
So struts yon cock that now is crowing; 735
And the morning light in grace
Strikes upon his lifted face,
Hurrying the pallid hue away
That might his trespasses betray.
But what can all avail to clear him, 740
Or what need of explanation,
Parley or interrogation?
For the Master sees, alas!
That unhappy Figure near him,
Limping o'er the dewy grass, 745
Where the road it fringes, sweet,
Soft and cool to way-worn feet;
And, O indignity! an Ass,
By his noble Mastiffs side,
Tethered to the waggon's tail: 750
And the ship, in all her pride,
Following after in full sail!
Not to speak of babe and mother;
Who, contented with each other,
And snug as birds in leafy arbour, 755
Find, within, a blessed harbour!

With eager eyes the Master pries;
Looks in and out, and through and through;
Says nothing--till at last he spies
A wound upon the Mastiff's head, 760
A wound, where plainly might be read
What feats an Ass's hoof can do!
But drop the rest:--this aggravation,
This complicated provocation,
A hoard of grievances unsealed; 765
All past forgiveness it repealed;
And thus, and through distempered blood
On both sides, Benjamin the good,
The patient, and the tender-hearted,
Was from his team and waggon parted; 770
When duty of that day was o'er,
Laid down his whip--and served no more. --
Nor could the waggon long survive,
Which Benjamin had ceased to drive:
It lingered on;--guide after guide 775
Ambitiously the office tried;
But each unmanageable hill
Called for _his_ patience and _his_ skill;--
And sure it is, that through this night,
And what the morning brought to light, 780
Two losses had we to sustain,
We lost both WAGGONER and WAIN!