MATTHEW ARNOLD. THE SCHOLAR-GIPSY. Go, for they call you, shepherd, from the hill; No longer leave thy wistful flock unfed, Nor let thy bawling fellows rack their throats, And the tired men and dogs all gone to rest, And only the white sheep are sometimes seen Come, shepherd, and again begin the quest! ΤΟ Here, where the reaper was at work of late In this high field's dark corner, where he leaves While to my ear from uplands far away The bleating of the folded flocks is borne, All the live murmur of a summer's day. Screen'd is this nook o'er the high, half-reap'd field, Through the thick corn the scarlet poppies peep, And air-swept lindens yield Their scent, and rustle down their perfumed showers And near me on the grass lies Glanvil's book His friends, and went to learn the gipsy-lore, But once, years after, in the country-lanes, 30 35 40 His mates, had arts to rule as they desired 45 The workings of men's brains, And they can bind them to what thoughts they will. 50 This said, he left them, and return'd no more. 55 Shepherds had met him on the Hurst in spring; Had found him seated at their entering, 60 But, 'mid their drink and clatter, he would fly. And I myself seem half to know thy looks, And put the shepherds, wanderer! on thy trace; Moor'd to the cool bank in the summer-heats, 'Mid wide grass meadows which the sunshine fills, And watch the warm, green-muffled Cumner hills, And wonder if thou haunt'st their shy retreats. For most, I know, thou lov'st retired ground! Returning home on summer-nights, have met, And leaning backward in a pensive dream, And thine eyes resting on the moonlit stream. And then they land, and thou art seen no more! Oft through the darkening fields have seen thee roam, 85 Oft thou hast given them store of flowers the frail-leaf'd, white anemone, Dark bluebells drench'd with dews of summer eves, But none hath words she can report of thee. 90 And, above Godstow Bridge, when hay-time's here In June, and many a scythe in sunshine flames, Men who through those wide fields of breezy grass Where black-wing'd swallows haunt the glittering Thames, 95 Have often pass'd thee near Sitting upon the river bank o'ergrown; Mark'd thine outlandish garb, thy figure spare, Thy dark vague eyes, and soft abstracted air- 100 At some lone homestead in the Cumner hills, Children, who early range these slopes and late 105 Have known thee eying, all an April-day, The springing pastures and the feeding kine; And mark'd thee, when the stars come out and shine, Through the long dewy grass move slow away. In autumn, on the skirts of Bagley Wood Where most the gipsies by the turf-edged way Pitch their smoked tents, and every bush you see 115 With scarlet patches tagg'd and shreds of grey, The blackbird, picking food, Sees thee, nor stops his meal, nor fears at all; And once, in winter, on the causeway chill Where home through flooded fields foot-travellers go, 120 125 And gain'd the white brow of the Cumner range; 130 But what—I dream! Two hundred years are flown That thou wert wander'd from the studious walls 135 Long since, and in some quiet churchyard laid — 140 No, no, thou hast not felt the lapse of hours! For what wears out the life of mortal men? 'Tis that from change to change their being rolls; 'Tis that repeated shocks, again, again, Exhaust the energy of strongest souls 145 And numb the elastic powers. Till having used our nerves with bliss and teen, 150 Thou hast not lived, why should'st thou perish, so? Else wert thou long since number'd with the dead! Else hadst thou spent, like other men, thy fire! 155 And we ourselves shall go; But thou possessest an immortal lot, And we imagine thee exempt from age And living as thou liv'st on Glanvil's page, Because thou hadst what we, alas! have not. 160 For early didst thou leave the world, with powers Firm to their mark, not spent on other things; Free from the sick fatigue, the languid doubt, Which much to have tried, in much been baffled, brings. O life unlike to ours! Who fluctuate idly without term or scope, Of whom each strives, nor knows for what he strives, 165 |