Not free from boding thoughts, a while The shepherd stood; then makes his way Towards the dog, o'er rocks and stones, Not far had gone before he found 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; And who he was, and whence he came; On which the traveler passed this way. But hear a wonder, for whose sake 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 that day, The dog had watched about the spot, How nourished here, through such long time, WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. |