A gentle answer did the Old Man make, In courteous speech which forth he slowly drew: And him with further words I thus bespake, "What kind of work is that which you pursue? This is a lonesome place for one like you." He answer'd me with pleasure and surprize; And there was, while he spake, a fire about his eyes. His words came feebly, from a feeble chest, Yet each in solemn order follow'd each, 100 With something of a lofty utterance drest; Choice word, and measured phrase; above the reach Of ordinary men; a stately speech! Such as grave Livers do in Scotland use, Religious men, who give to God and Man their dues. He told me that he to this pond had come To gather Leeches, being old and poor: Employment hazardous and wearisome! And he had many hardships to endure: From Pond to Pond he roam'd, from moor to moor, 110 Housing, with God's good help, by choice or chance: And in this way he gain'd an honest maintenance. The Old Man still stood talking by my side; But now his voice to me was like a stream Scarce heard; nor word from word could I divide; And the whole Body of the man did seem Like one whom I had met with in a dream; Or like a Man from some far region sent; To give me human strength, and strong admonishment. My former thoughts return'd: the fear that kills; 120 The hope that is unwilling to be fed; Cold, pain, and labour, and all fleshly ills; And mighty Poets in their misery dead. And now, not knowing what the Old Man had said, My question eagerly did I renew, "How is it that you live, and what is it you do?" He with a smile did then his words repeat; And said, that, gathering Leeches, far and wide He travelled; stirring thus about his feet The waters of the Ponds where they abide. 130 "Once I could meet with them on every side; But they have dwindled long by slow decay; Yet still I persevere, and find them where I may." While he was talking thus, the lonely place, The Old Man's shape, and speech, all troubled me: In my mind's eye I seem'd to see him pace About the weary moors continually, Wandering about alone and silently. While I these thoughts within myself pursued, He, having made a pause, the same discourse renewed. 140 And soon with this he other matter blended, Chearfully uttered, with demeanour kind, But stately in the main; and, when he ended, I could have laugh'd myself to scorn, to find In that decrepit Man so firm a mind. "God," said I, "be my help and stay secure; I'll think of the Leech-gatherer on the lonely moor." SONNETS. PREFATORY SONNET. * * * * *