Poems In Two Volumes, vol 2 | Page 7

if bereft?Of company or friends, and left
Without a better guide. 40
And then the bagpipes he could blow;?And thus from house to house would go,?And all were pleas'd to hear and see;?For none made sweeter melody
Than did the poor blind Boy.
Yet he had many a restless dream;?Both when he heard the Eagles scream,?And when he heard the torrents roar,?And heard the water beat the shore
Near which their Cottage stood. 50
Beside a lake their Cottage stood,?Not small like ours, a peaceful flood;?But one of mighty size, and strange;?That, rough or smooth, is full of change,
And stirring in its bed.
For to this Lake, by night and day,?The great Sea-water finds its way?Through long, long windings of the hills;?And drinks up all the pretty rills
And rivers large and strong: 60
Then hurries back the road it came--?Returns, on errand still the same;?This did it when the earth was new;?And this for evermore will do,
As long as earth shall last.
And, with the coming of the Tide,?Come Boats and Ships, that sweetly ride,?Between the woods and lofty rocks;?And to the Shepherds with their Flocks
Bring tales of distant Lands. 70
And of those tales, whate'er they were,?The blind Boy always had his share;?Whether of mighty Towns, or Vales?With warmer suns and softer gales,
Or wonders of the Deep.
Yet more it pleased him, more it stirr'd,?When from the water-side he heard?The shouting, and the jolly cheers,?The bustle of the mariners
In stillness or in storm. 80
But what do his desires avail??For He must never handle sail;?Nor mount the mast, nor row, nor float?In Sailor's ship or Fisher's boat
Upon the rocking waves.
His Mother often thought, and said,?What sin would be upon her head?If she should suffer this: "My Son,?Whate'er you do, leave this undone;
The danger is so great." 90
Thus lived he by Loch Levin's side?Still sounding with the sounding tide,?And heard the billows leap and dance,?Without a shadow of mischance,
Till he was ten years old.
When one day (and now mark me well,?You soon shall know how this befel)?He's in a vessel of his own,?On the swift water hurrying down
Towards the mighty Sea. 100
In such a vessel ne'er before?Did human Creature leave the shore:?If this or that way he should stir,?Woe to the poor blind Mariner!
For death will be his doom.
Strong is the current; but be mild,?Ye waves, and spare the helpless Child!?If ye in anger fret or chafe,?A Bee-hive would be ship as safe
As that in which he sails. 110
But say, what was it? Thought of fear!?Well may ye tremble when ye hear!?--A Household Tub, like one of those?Which women use to wash their clothes,
This carried the blind Boy.
Close to the water he had found?This Vessel, push'd it from dry ground,?Went into it; and, without dread,?Following the fancies in his head,
He paddled up and down. 120
A while he stood upon his feet;?He felt the motion--took his seat;?And dallied thus, till from the shore?The tide retreating more and more
Had suck'd, and suck'd him in.
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. 130
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.
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 bless'd. 140
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.
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. 150
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.
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. 160
"Lei-gha--Lei-gha"--then did he cry?"Lei-gha--Lei-gha"--most eagerly;?Thus did he cry, and thus did pray,?And what he meant was, "Keep away,
And leave me to myself!"
Alas! and when he felt their hands--?You've often heard of magic Wands,?That with a motion overthrow?A palace of the proudest shew,
Or melt it into air. 170
So all his dreams, that inward light?With which his soul had shone so bright,?All vanish'd;--'twas a heartfelt cross?To him, a heavy, bitter loss,
As he had ever known.
But hark! a gratulating voice?With which the very hills rejoice:?'Tis from the crowd, who tremblingly?Had watch'd the event, and now can see
That he is safe at last. 180
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 welcom'd the poor Child.
And in the