“Companionless, No dog attending, by no staff sustained, He stood, and in his very dress appeared A desolation, a simplicity, To which the trappings of a gaudy world Make a strange back-ground.” Presently, he began to mutter sounds as of pain, or birth-pangs of uneasy thought,-- “Yet still his form Kept the same awful steadiness; at his feet His shadow lay, and moved not.” Wordsworth now came from his hiding place, and hailed the poor, lone, desolate, old man, who rose, slowly, from his resting place, “and with a lean and wasted arm, Returned the salutation; then resumed His station, as before.” The poet entered into conversation with him, and asked him to relate his history. It was the old tale--told with a quiet uncomplaining voice, a stately air of mild indifference. He had served in the Tropic islands, and on landing, three weeks ago, he had been dismissed the service. He was now journeying homeward, to lay his weary bones in the churchyard of his native village. Wordsworth was touched at the uncomplaining misery of the poor old man, and invited him to go with him. The veteran picked up his staff from the shadowy ground, and walked by the poet’s side down into the valley, where a hospitable cottage was soon found, and the soldier bestowed for the night. On leaving him, Wordsworth “entreated that, henceforth, He would not linger in the public ways, But ask for timely furtherance and help, Such as his state required.” And now, mark the touching reply of the friendless old man: “With the same ghastly mildness in his look He said, “My trust is in the God of heaven, And in the eye of him who passes me.” And in this manner,--with occasional adventures, but none so memorable as this,--Wordsworth passed his vacation. Nature, too, had claimed him for her own--for her bard, minister, and interpreter; had purified him of the frivolities which had previously lowered his mind, and loosed the girds of his gigantic spirit, and she now made him happy in the consciousness of his destiny. During one of his morning walks, he thus describes this consciousness:-- “My heart was full; I made no vows, but vows Were then made for me; bond unknown to me Was given, that I should be; else sinning greatly, A dedicated spirit. On I walked In thankful blessedness, which yet survives.”