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For the Spot where the HERMITAGE stood on St. Herbert's
If thou in the dear love of some one friend
Hast been so happy, that thou know'st what thoughts.
Will, sometimes, in the happiness of love
Make the heart sink, then wilt thou reverence
This quiet spot.
-St. Herbert hither came
And here, for many seasons, from the world
He dwelt in solitude. He living here,
This island's sole inhabitant! had left
A Fellow-labourer, whom the good Man lov'd
Alone he knelt before the crucifix
Peal'd to his orisons, and when he pac'd
For the House (an Outhouse) on the Island at Grasmere.
Rude is this Edifice, and Thou hast seen
With the ideal grace. Yet as it is
Do take it in good part; for he, the poor
It is a homely pile, yet to these walls
The heifer comes in the snow-storm, and here
The new-dropp'd lamb finds shelter from the wind.
His pinnace, a small vagrant barge, up-piled
Lie round him, even as if they were a part
Of his own household: nor, while from his bed He through that door-place looks toward the lake And to the stirring breezes, does he want Creations lovely as the work of sleep,
Fair sights, and visions of romantic joy.
To a SEXTON.
Let thy wheel-barrow alone.
In thy bone-house bone on bone?
"Tis already like a hill
In a field of battle made,
Where three thousand skulls are laid.
These died in peace each with the other,
Father, Sister, Friend, and Brother.
Mark the spot to which I point!
Andrew's whole fire-side is there.