URL originale : https://books.openedition.org/ugaeditions/21708

Annexe III
p. 401-403
Texte intégral
The Excursion, livre VII
(VII, v. 398-481)2
Beneath that pine which rears its dusky head | |
Aloft, and covered by a plain blue stone | |
Briefly inscribed, a gentle Dalesman lies ; | 400 |
From whom in early childhood was withdrawn | |
The precious gift of hearing. He grew up | |
From year to year in loneliness of soul ; | |
And this deep mountain valley was to him | |
Soundless with all its streams. The bird of dawn | 405 |
Did never rouse this Cottager from sleep | |
With startling summons ; not for his delight | |
The vernal cuckoo shouted, not for him | |
Murmured the labouring bee. When stormy winds | |
Were working the broad bosom of the Lake | 410 |
Into a thousand thousand sparkling waves, | |
Rocking the trees, or driving cloud on cloud | |
Along the sharp edge of yon lofty crags, | |
The agitated scene before his eye | |
Was silent as a picture ; evermore | 415 |
Were all things silent wheresoe’er he moved. | |
Yet by the solace of his own calm thoughts | |
Upheld, he duteously pursued the round | |
Of rural labours : the steep mountain side | |
Ascended with his staff and faithful dog ; | 420 |
The plough he guided and the scythe he swayed, | |
And the ripe corn before his sickle fell | |
Among the jocund reapers. For himself, | |
All watchful and industrious as he was, | |
He wrought not ; neither field nor flock he owned ; | 425 |
No wish for wealth had place within his mind, | |
No husband’s love nor father’s hope or care ; | |
Though born a younger brother, need was none | |
That from the floor of his paternal home | |
He should depart to plant himself anew ; | 430 |
And when mature in manhood he beheld | |
His parents laid in earth, no loss ensued | |
Of rights to him, but he remained well pleased | |
By the pure bond of independent love, | |
An inmate of a second family, | 435 |
The fellow-labourer and friend of him | |
To whom the small inheritance had fallen. | |
Nor deem that his mild presence was a weight | |
That pressed upon his brother’s house ; for books | |
Were ready comrades whom he could not tire ; | 440 |
Of whose society the blameless man | |
Was never satiate ; their familiar voice | |
Even to old age with unabated charm | |
Beguiled his leisure hours, refreshed his thoughts, | |
Beyond its natural elevation raised | 445 |
His introverted spirit, and bestowed | |
Upon his life an outward dignity | |
Which all acknowledged. The dark winter night, | |
The stormy day had each its own resource ; | |
Song of the Muses, sage historic tale, | 450 |
Science severe, or word of Holy Writ | |
Announcing immortality and joy | |
To the assembled spirits of the just | |
From imperfection and decay secure : | |
Thus soothed at home, thus busy in the field, | 455 |
To no perverse suspicion he gave way ; | |
No languour, peevishness, nor vain complaint. | |
And they who were about him did not fail | |
In reverence or in courtesy ; they prized | |
His gentle manners, and his peaceful smiles ; | 460 |
The gleams of his slow-varying countenance | |
Were met with answering sympathy and love. | |
At length when sixty years and five were told | |
A slow disease insensibly consumed | |
The powers of nature, and a few short steps | 465 |
Of friends and kindred bore him from his home, | |
Yon cottage shaded by the woody cross, | |
To the profounder stillness of the grave. | |
Nor was his funeral denied the grace | |
Of many tears, virtuous and thoughtful grief, | 470 |
Heart-sorrow rendered sweet by gratitude ; | |
And now that monumental stone preserves | |
His name, and unambitiously relates | |
How long and by what kindly outward aids | |
And in what pure contentedness of mind | 475 |
The sad privation was by him endured. | |
And yon tall pine-tree, whose composing sound | |
Was wasted on the good man’s living ear, | |
Hath now its own peculiar sanctity, | |
And at the touch of every wandering breeze | 480 |
Murmurs not idly o’er his peaceful grave. |
Notes de bas de page
2 PW, V, p. 244-246.
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Wordsworth et ses miroirs
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Wordsworth et ses miroirs
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