THE EXCURSION.

BOOK I.

THE WANDERER.

VOL. V.

B

A summer forenoon

ARGUMENT.

The Author reaches a ruined Cottage upon a Common, and there meets with a revered Friend, the Wanderer, of whom he gives an account

- The Wanderer while

resting under the shade of the Trees that surround the Cottage

relates the History of its last Inhabitant.

BOOK FIRST.

"TWAS

THE WANDERER.

WAS summer, and the sun had mounted high : Southward the landscape indistinctly glared

Through a pale steam; but all the northern downs,
In clearest air ascending, show'd far off

A surface dappled o'er with shadows flung
From brooding clouds; shadows that lay in spots
Determined and unmoved, with steady beams
Of bright and pleasant sunshine interposed ;
Pleasant to him who on the soft cool moss
Extends his careless limbs along the front

Of some huge cave, whose rocky ceiling casts

A twilight of its own, an ample shade,

Where the wren warbles; while the dreaming Man,

Half conscious of the soothing melody,

With side-long eye looks out upon the scene,

By power of that impending covert thrown
To finer distance. Other lot was mine ;
Yet with good hope that soon I should obtain
As grateful resting-place, and livelier joy.
Across a bare wide Common I was toiling
With languid steps that by the slippery ground
Were baffled; nor could my weak arm disperse
The host of insects gathering round my face,
And ever with me as I paced along.

Upon that open level stood a Grove,

The wish'd-for port to which my course was bound.
Thither I came, and there, amid the gloom
Spread by a brotherhood of lofty elms,
Appear'd a roofless Hut; four naked walls
That stared upon each other! I looked round,
And to my wish and to my hope espied
Him whom I sought; a Man of reverend age,
But stout and hale, for travel unimpair'd.
There was he seen upon the Cottage bench,
Recumbent in the shade, as if asleep;
An iron-pointed staff lay at his side.

alone

Him had I mark'd the day before
And station'd in the public way, with face

Turn'd tow'rd the sun then setting, while that staff
Afforded to the Figure of the Man

Detain'd for contemplation or repose,
Graceful support; his countenance meanwhile
Was hidden from my view, and he remain'd
Unrecognized; but, stricken by the sight,
With slacken'd footsteps I advanced, and soon
A glad congratulation we exchanged

At such unthought-of meeting. For the night
We parted, nothing willingly; and now
He by appointment waited for me here,
Beneath the shelter of these clustering elms.

We were tried Friends: amid a pleasant vale,
In the antique market village where were pass'd
My school-days, an apartment he had own'd,
To which at intervals the Wanderer drew,
And found a kind of home or harbour there.

He loved me; from a swarm of rosy Boys
Singled out me, as he in sport would say,

For my grave looks too thoughtful for my years. As I grew up, it was my best delight

To be his chosen Comrade. Many a time,

On holidays, we rambled through the woods: we walk'd; he pleased me with report

We sate