Page:The Excursion, Wordsworth, 1814.djvu/105

79 On the green turf following the vested Priest,

Four dear Supporters of one senseless Weight,

From which they do not shrink, and under which

They faint not, but advance towards the grave

Step after step—together, with their firm

Unhidden faces; he that suffers most

He outwardly, and inwardly perhaps,

The most serene, with most undaunted eye!

Oh! blest are they who live and die like these,

Loved with such love, and with such sorrow mourned!"

"That poor Man taken hence to day," replied

The Solitary, with a faint sarcastic smile

Which did not please me, "must be deemed, I fear,

Of the unblest; for he will surely sink

Into his mother earth without such pomp

Of grief, depart without occasion given

By him for such array of fortitude.

Full seventy winters hath he lived, and mark!

This simple Child will mourn his one short hour,

And I shall miss him; scanty tribute! yet,

This wanting, he would leave the sight of men,

If love were his sole claim upon their care,