A barking
sound the Shepherd hears,
A cry as of
a dog or fox;
He halts - and
searches with his eyes
Among the
scattered rocks:
And now at
distance can discern
A stirring
in a brake of fern;
And
instantly a dog is seen,
Glancing
through that covert green.
The Dog is
not of mountain breed;
Its
motions, too, are wild and shy;
With
something, as the Shepherd thinks,
Unusual in
its cry:
Nor is
there any one in sight
All round,
in hollow or on height;
Nor shout,
nor whistle strikes his ear;
What is the
creature doing here?
It was a
cove, a huge recess,
That keeps,
till June, December's snow;
A lofty
precipice in front,
A silent
tarn below!
Far in the
bosom of Helvellyn,
Remote from
public road or dwelling,
Pathway, or
cultivated land;
From trace
of human foot or hand.
There
sometimes doth a leaping fish
Send
through the tarn a lonely cheer;
The crags
repeat the raven's croak,
In symphony
austere;
Thither the
rainbow comes - the cloud -
And mists
that spread the flying shroud;
And
sunbeams; and the sounding blast,
That, if it
could, would hurry past;
But that enormous
barrier holds it fast.
Not free
from boding thoughts, a while
The
Shepherd stood; then makes his way
O'er rocks
and stones, following the Dog
As quickly
as he may;
Nor far had
gone before he found
A human
skeleton on the ground;
The
appalled Discoverer with a sigh
Looks
round, to learn the history.
From those
abrupt and perilous rocks
The Man had
fallen, that place of fear!
At length
upon the Shepherd's mind
It breaks,
and all is clear:
He
instantly recalled the name,
And who he
was, and whence he came;
Remembered,
too, the very day
On which
the Traveller passed this way.
But hear a
wonder, for whose sake
This
lamentable tale I tell!
A lasting
monument of words
This wonder
merits well.
The Dog,
which still was hovering nigh,
Repeating
the same timid cry,
This Dog,
had been through three months' space
A dweller
in that savage place.
Yes, proof
was plain that, since the day
When this
ill-fated Traveller died,
The Dog had
watched about the spot,
Or by his
master's side:
How
nourished here through such long time
He knows,
who gave that love sublime;
And gave
that strength of feeling, great
Above all
human estimate!
(William
Wordsworth (1770-1850))
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