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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!

* * * * *

Accept, O Friend, for praise or blame,
The gift of this adventurous song;
A record which I dared to frame, 785
Though timid scruples checked me long;
They checked me--and I left the theme
Untouched;--in spite of many a gleam
Of fancy which thereon was shed,
Like pleasant sunbeams shifting still 790
Upon the side of a distant hill:
But Nature might not be gainsaid;
For what I have and what I miss
I sing of these;--it makes my bliss!
Nor is it I who play the part, 795
But a shy spirit in my heart,
That comes and goes--will sometimes leap
From hiding-places ten years deep;
Or haunts me with familiar face, [67]
Returning, like a ghost unlaid, 800
Until the debt I owe be paid.
Forgive me, then; for I had been
On friendly terms with this Machine: [M]
In him, while he was wont to trace
Our roads, through many a long year's space, 805
A living almanack had we;
We had a speaking diary,
That in this uneventful place,
Gave to the days a mark and name
By which we knew them when they came. 810
--Yes, I, and all about me here,
Through all the changes of the year,
Had seen him through the mountains go,
In pomp of mist or pomp of snow,
Majestically huge and slow: 815
Or, with a milder grace [68] adorning
The landscape of a summer's morning;
While Grasmere smoothed her liquid plain
The moving image to detain;
And mighty Fairfield, with a chime 820
Of echoes, to his march kept time;
When little other business stirred,
And little other sound was heard;
In that delicious hour of balm,
Stillness, solitude, and calm, 825
While yet the valley is arrayed,
On this side with a sober shade;
On that is prodigally bright--
Crag, lawn, and wood--with rosy light.
--But most of all, thou lordly Wain! 830
I wish to have thee here again,
When windows flap and chimney roars,
And all is dismal out of doors;
And, sitting by my fire, I see
Eight sorry carts, no less a train! 835
Unworthy successors of thee,
Come straggling through the wind and rain:
And oft, as they pass slowly on,
Beneath my windows, [69] one by one,
See, perched upon the naked height 840
The summit of a cumbrous freight,
A single traveller--and there
Another; then perhaps a pair--
The lame, the sickly, and the old;
Men, women, heartless with the cold; 845
And babes in wet and starveling plight;
Which once, [70] be weather as it might,
Had still a nest within a nest,
Thy shelter--and their mother's breast!