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Farewell to the Valley-Reflections - Sight of a large and populous Vale― Solitary consents to go forward - Vale describedThe Pastor's Dwelling, and some account of him- The Churchyard- Church and Monuments The Solitary musing, and where Roused - In the Church-yard the Solitary communicates the thoughts which had recently passed through his mind - Lofty tone of the Wanderer's discourse of yesterday adverted Rite of Baptism, and the professions accompanying it, contrasted with the real state of human life- Inconsistency of the best men Acknowledgment that practice falls far below the injunctions of duty as existing in the mind General complaint of a falling-off in the value of life after the time of youth— Outward appearances of content and happiness in degree illusive Pastor approaches Appeal made to him— His answer— Wanderer in sympathy with him - Suggestion that the least ambitious Inquirers may be most free from error — The Pastor is desired to give some Portraits of the living or dead from his own observation of life among these Mountains- and for what purpose Pastor consents Mountain cottage - Excellent qualities of its Inhabitants Solitary expresses his pleasure; but denies the praise of virtue to worth of this kind- Feelings of the Priest before he enters upon his account of Persons interred in the Church-yard- Graves of unbaptized Infants. What sensations they excite Funeral and sepulchral Observances, whence Ecclesiastical Establishments, whence derived-Profession of Belief in the doctrine of Immortality.

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189

BOOK THE FIFTH.

THE PASTOR.

FAREWELL, deep Valley, with thy one rude House, And its small lot of life-supporting fields,

And guardian rocks! - Farewell, attractive Seat!
To the still influx of the morning light

Open, and day's pure cheerfulness, but veiled
From human observation, as if yet

Primeval Forests wrapped thee round with dark
Impenetrable shade; once more farewell,

Majestic Circuit, beautiful Abyss,

By Nature destined from the birth of things
For quietness profound!

Upon the side

Of that brown Slope, the outlet of the Vale,

Lingering behind my Comrades, thus I breathed

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A parting tribute to a spot that seemed
Like the fixed centre of a troubled World.
And now, pursuing leisurely my way,

How vain, thought I, it is by change of place
To seek that comfort which the mind denies ;
Yet trial and temptation oft are shunned
Wisely; and by such tenure do we hold
Frail Life's possessions, that even they whose fate
Yields no peculiar reason of complaint
Might, by the promise that is here, be won

To steal from active duties, and embrace

Obscurity, and calm forgetfulness.

Knowledge, methinks in these disordered times,

Should be allowed a privilege to have

Her Anchorites, like Piety of old;

Men, who, from faction sacred, and unstained
By war, might, if so minded, turn aside
Uncensured, and subsist, a scattered few
Living to God and Nature, and content
With that communion.

Consecrated be

The Spots where such abide! But happier still

The Man, whom, furthermore, a hope attends

That meditation and research may guide
His privacy to principles and powers

Discovered or invented; or set forth,

Through his acquaintance with the ways of truth, In lucid order; so that, when his course

Is run, some faithful Eulogist may say,

He sought not praise, and praise did overlook
His unobtrusive merit; but his life,

Sweet to himself, was exercised in good
That shall survive his name and memory.

Acknowledgments of gratitude sincere Accompanied these musings;-fervent thanks For my own peaceful lot and happy choice; A choice that from the passions of the world Withdrew, and fixed me in a still retreat, Sheltered, but not to social duties lost, Secluded, but not buried; and with song Cheering my days, and with industrious thought, With ever-welcome company of books, By virtuous friendship's soul-sustaining aid, And with the blessings of domestic love.

Thus occupied in mind I paced along, Following the rugged road, by sledge or wheel Worn in the moorland, till I overtook

My two Associates, in the morning sunshine
Halting together on a rocky knoll,

From which the road descended rapidly
To the green meadows of another Vale.

Here did our pensive Host put forth his hand
In sign of farewell. "Nay," the Old Man said,
"The fragrant Air its coolness still retains;
The Herds and Flocks are yet abroad to crop
The dewy grass; you cannot leave us now,
We must not part at this inviting hour."
He yielded, though reluctant; for his Mind
Instinctively disposed him to retire

To his own Covert; as a billow, heaved
Upon the beach, rolls back into the Sea.

So we descend; and winding round a rock Attain a point that shewed the Valley - stretched In length before us; and, not distant far, Upon a rising ground a grey Church-tower, Whose battlements were screened by tufted trees. And, tow'rds a crystal Mere, that lay beyond Among steep hills and woods embosomed, flowed A copious Stream with boldly-winding course; Here traceable, there hidden there again

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To sight restored, and glittering in the Sun.
On the Stream's bank, and every where, appeared
Fair Dwellings, single, or in social knots;

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