Page:The Excursion, Wordsworth, 1814.djvu/237

211 Upturned, as if his mind were rapt, or lost

In some abstraction;—gracefully he stood,

The semblance bearing of a sculptured Form

That leans upon a monumental Urn

In peace, from morn to night, from year to year.

Him from that posture did the Sexton rouze;

Who entered, humming carelessly a tune,

Continuation haply of the notes

That had beguiled the work from which he came

With spade and mattock o'er his shoulder hung;

To be deposited, for future need,

In their appointed place. The pale Recluse

Withdrew; and straight we followed,—to a spot

Where sun and shade were intermixed; for there

A broad Oak, stretching forth its leafy arms

From an adjoining pasture, overhung

Small space of that green church-yard with a light

And pleasant awning. On the moss-grown wall

My ancient Friend and I together took

Our seats; and thus the Solitary spake,

Standing before us. "Did you note the mien

Of that self-solaced, easy-hearted churl,