Lays and Legends of the English Lake Country. White John White

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      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—

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