Strange alteration wrought on every side Among the woods and fields, and that the rocks, And the everlasting hills, themselves were changed. By this the Priest, who down the field had come Unseen by Leonard, at the church-yard gate Stopped short, and thence, at leisure, limb by limb Perused him with a gay complacency. Ay, thought the Vicar, smiling to himself, Write Fool upon his forehead. Planted thus Of this rude church-yard, till the stars appeared, By Leonard to the Vicar as to one Unknown to him, this dialogue ensued. LEONARD. You live, Sir, in these dales, a quiet life: you, And see, that with our threescore years and ten We are not all that perish. I remember, (For many years ago I passed this road) There was a foot-way all along the fields By the brook-side-'tis gone-and that dark cleft! To me it does not seem to wear the face Which then it had. PRIEST. Nay, Sir, for aught I know, That chasm is much the same LEONARD. But, surely, yonder PRIEST. Ay, there, indeed, your memory is a friend That does not play you false, On that tall pike (It is the loneliest place of all these hills) There were two Springs which bubbled side by side, The ice breaks up and sweeps away a bridge * This actually took place upon Kidstow Pike at the head of Hawes-water. A wood is felled:-and then for our own homes! For the whole dale, and one for each fire-side Yours was a stranger's judgment: for Historians, Commend me to these valleys! Yet your Church-yard LEONARD. Seems, if such freedom may be used with you, To say that you are heedless of the past: PRIEST. Why, there, Sir, is a thought that's new to me! Yet We have no need of names and epitaphs; Your Dalesmen, then, do in each other's thoughts You, Sir, could help me to the history Of half these Graves? PRIEST. For eight-score winters past, With what I've witnessed, and with what I've heard, By turning o'er these hillocks one by one, We two could travel, Sir, through a strange round; Yet all in the broad high-way of the world. Now there's a grave-your foot is half upon it,It looks just like the rest; and yet that Man Died broken-hearted. LEONARD. 'Tis a common case. We'll take another: who is he that lies |