Page:The Excursion, Wordsworth, 1814.djvu/56

30 And their place knew them not. Meanwhile abridg'd

Of daily comforts, gladly reconciled

To numerous self-denials, Margaret

Went struggling on through those calamitous years

With chearful hope: but ere the second autumn

Her life's true Help-mate on a sick-bed lay,

Smitten with perilous fever. In disease

He lingered long; and when his strength return'd,

He found the little he had stored, to meet

The hour of accident or crippling age,

Was all consumed. Two children had they now,

One newly born. As I have said, it was

A time of trouble; shoals of Artisans

Were from their daily labour turn'd adrift

To seek their bread from public charity,

They, and their wives and children—happier far

Could they have lived as do the little birds

That peck along the hedges, or the Kite

That makes his dwelling on the mountain Rocks!

A sad reverse it was for Him who long

Had filled with plenty, and possess'd in peace,

This lonely Cottage. At his door he stood,