Wrote loving letters, full of wondrous news, Which, as the Housewife phrased it, were throughout "The prettiest letters that were ever seen." 435 Both parents read them with rejoicing hearts. So, many months passed on: and once again The Shepherd went about his daily work With confident and cheerful thoughts; and now Sometimes when he could find a leisure hour 440 He to that valley took his way, and there Wrought at the Sheepfold. Meantime Luke began To slacken in his duty; and, at length, He in the dissolute city gave himself To evil courses: ignominy and shame 445 Fell on him, so that he was driven at last To seek a hiding-place beyond the seas. There is a comfort in the strength of love; 'Twill make a thing endurable, which else Would overset the brain, or break the heart: 450 I have conversed with more than one who well Remember the old Man, and what he was Years after he had heard this heavy news. His bodily frame had been from youth to age Of an unusual strength. Among the rocks 455 He went, and still looked up to sun and cloud, And listened to the wind; and, as before, Performed all kinds of labor for his sheep, And for the land, his small inheritance. And to that hollow dell from time to time 460 Did he repair, to build the Fold of which His flock had need. 'Tis not forgotten yet The pity which was then in every heart For the old Man--and 'tis believed by all That many and many a day he thither went, 465 And never lifted up a single stone. There, by the Sheepfold, sometimes was he seen Sitting alone, or with his faithful Dog, Then old, beside him, lying at his feet. The length of full seven years, from time to time, 470 He at the building of this Sheepfold wrought, And left the work unfinished when he died. Three years, or little more, did Isabel Survive her Husband: at his death the estate Was sold, and went into a stranger's hand. 475 The Cottage which was named the EVENING STAR Is gone--the ploughshare has been through the ground On which it stood; great changes have been wrought In all the neighborhood:--yet the oak is left That grew beside their door; and the remains 480 Of the unfinished Sheepfold may be seen Beside the boisterous brook of Greenhead Ghyll. LUCY GRAY; OR SOLITUDE Oft I had heard of Lucy Gray: And, when I crossed the wild, I chanced to see at break of day The solitary child. No mate, no comrade Lucy knew; 5 She dwelt on a wide moor. --The sweetest thing that ever grew Beside a human door!