Читать книгу Lays and Legends of the English Lake Country - John Pagen White - Страница 13

Table of Contents

Far within those rocky regions

Where old Scawfell's hoary legions,

Robed and capped with storms and snow,

Here like rugged Vikings towering,

There like giants grimly cowering,

Look into the vales below;

Once where Borrhy wild and fearless,

Once where Oller brave and peerless,

Hew'd the forest, cleared the vale,

Gave their names to cling for ever

Round thy dells by crag and river,

Dark and wintry Borrodale!

In that dreariest of the valleys,

Strifes for evermore, and malice

Without end the dalesmen vexed.

Neighbour had no heart for neighbour.

Never side by side to labour

Went or came they unperplex'd.

Cheerless were the fields and houses.

Gloomily the sullen spouses

Moved about the hearths and floors.

Sunshine was an alms from Heaven

That not one day out of seven

God's bright beams brought to their doors.

And 'mid discontent and anguish

Every virtue seem'd to languish;

Every soul groan'd with its load.

Lingering in his walks beside them,

Oft their friendly Pastor eyed them,

And his heart with pity glow'd.

"Ah!" he thought, "that looks of kindness

Could but enter here! the blindness

Of this life, could it but seem

To them the death it is!—but listen!"—

And his eyes began to glisten:

Spring was round him like a dream.

"'Tis the Cuckoo!"—In the hollow

Up the valley seem'd to follow

Spring's fair footsteps that sweet throat.

All the fields put off their sadness;

Trees and hills and skies with gladness

Answering to the Cuckoo's note.

Then on that still Sabbath-morrow,

Spake the Pastor—"Let us borrow

Gladness from this new-born Spring.

Hark, the bird that brings the blossoms!

Brings the sunshine to our bosoms!

Makes with joy the valleys ring!

"Coming from afar to cheer us,

Could we always keep him near us,

All these heavenly skies from far,

All this blessed morn discovers,

All this Spring that round us hovers,

Would be still what now they are!

"Let us all go forth and labour,

Sire, and son, and wife, and neighbour,

First the bread, the life, to win:

Then by yonder stream we'll rally,

Build a wall across the valley,

And we'll close the Cuckoo in.

"So this Spring time, never failing,

While it hears his music hailing

From the wood and by the rill.

Shall, its new born life retaining,

Till our mortal hours are waning,

Warm and light and cheer us still."—

Flush'd the morn; and all were ready.

Sowers sowed with paces steady;

Plough'd the ploughers in the field;

Delved the gardeners; planters planted;

Then to their great work, undaunted

Forth they fared their wall to build.

Stone by stone, the wall beside them

Rose. Their Pastor came to guide them,

Day by day, and spake to cheer;

While each labouring hand the others

Helped, and one and all like brothers

Wrought along the ripening year.

Then they gathered in their houses,

Men and maidens, sires and spouses,

Talking of their wall. And when

Soon the long bright day returning

Called them, every heart was yearning

To resume its task again.

And on every eve they parted

At their thresholds, kindlier-hearted,

Looking forth again to meet.

All had something good or gladdening

On their lips; the only saddening

Sounds were those of parting feet.

So their wall, extending ever,

Spann'd at length the vale and river;

Grasp'd the mountains there and here:

Reached towards the blue of heaven;

Touched the light cloud o'er it driven;

And the end at length was near.

June had come; and all was vernal:

Seemed secure their Spring eternal:

Eyes were bright, and skies were blue:

When—at Nature's call—unguided—

Out the voice above them glided,

"Cuckoo!"—far away, "Cuckoo!"

"Gone!" a hundred tongues in chorus

Shouted; "Gone! the bird that bore us

Spring with all things bright and good!"

While, in stupor and amazement,

Vacantly from cope to basement

Glowering at their wall, they stood.—

But though all forgot, while building

Up their wall, that months were yielding

Each in turn to others' sway,

With their leaves and landscapes changing;

And, to skies more constant ranging,

Fled the Cuckoo far away!

Winter from their hearts had perished;

Spring in every heart was cherished;

Every charm of life and love—

Love for wife and home and neighbour—

Sprang from out that genial labour;

Peace around, and Heaven above.

Faith into their lives had entered;

Joy and fellowship were centred

Wheresoe'er a hearth was found.

While the calm bright hope before them

Temper'd even the rains, and o'er them

Charmed to rest the tempests' sound.