Sat round their basket piled with oaten cakes, Yet when their meal Was ended, Luke (for so the son was named) Their hands by the fire-side; perhaps to card Down from the ceiling by the chimney's edge, Large space beneath, as duly as the light Nor cheerful, yet with objects and with hopes, Living a life of eager industry. And now, when Luke had reached his eighteenth year, There by the light of this old lamp they sat, The thrifty pair had lived. For, as it chanced, And from this constant light, so regular And so far seen, the house itself, by all Who dwelt within the limits of the vale, Both old and young, was named The Evening Star. Thus living on through such a length of years, The shepherd, if he loved himself, must needs Have loved his helpmate; but to Michael's heart This son of his old age was yet more dearLess from instinctive tenderness, the same Blind spirit, which is in the blood of allThan that a child, more than all other gifts, Brings hope with it, and forward-looking thoughts, And stirrings of inquietude, when they By tendency of nature needs must fail. Exceeding was the love he bare to him, His heart and his heart's joy! For oftentimes Old Michael, while he was a babe in arms, Had done him female service, not alone. For pastime and delight, as is the use Of fathers, but with patient mind enforced To acts of tenderness; and he had rocked His cradle with a woman's gentle hand. And, in a later time, ere yet the boy Had put on boy's attire, did Michael love, Albeit of a stern unbending mind, To have the young one in his sight, when he Had work by his own door, or when he sat With sheep before him on his shepherd's stool, Beneath that large old oak, which near their door Stood, and, from its enormous breadth of shade Chosen for the shearer's covert from the sun, Thence in our rustic dialect was called There, while they two were sitting in the shade, With others round them, earnest all and blithe, Would Michael exercise his heart with looks Of fond correction and reproof bestowed By catching at their legs, or with his shouts Scared them, while they lay still beneath the shears. And when, by Heaven's good grace, the boy grew up A healthy lad, and carried in his cheek Two steady roses that were five years old, Then Michael from a winter coppice cut But soon as Luke, full ten years old, could stand That objects which the shepherd loved before And that the old man's heart seemed born again? |