* * * * * VARIANTS ON THE TEXT [Footnote A: It was one of the "Lucy" Poems. In his instructions to the printer in 1807, Wordsworth told him to insert "I travelled among unknown men" after "A slumber did my spirit seal."--Ed.] [Footnote B: Compare Suckling's 'Fragmenta Aurea' (The Tragedy of Brennoralt), p. 170, edition 1658. Heavens! shall this fresh ornament of the world, These precious love-lines, pass with other common things, Amongst the wastes of time? What pity 'twere. Ed.] * * * * * ADDRESS TO THE SCHOLARS OF THE VILLAGE SCHOOL OF-- Composed 1798 or 1799.--Published 1842 [Composed at Goslar, in Germany.--I.F.] First published in "Poems, chiefly of Early and Late Years," and included, in 1845, among the "Epitaphs and Elegiac Pieces."--Ed. I come, ye little noisy Crew, Not long your pastime to prevent; I heard the blessing which to you Our common Friend and Father sent. I kissed his cheek before he died; 5 And when his breath was fled, I raised, while kneeling by his side, His hand:--it dropped like lead. Your hands, dear Little-ones, do all That can be done, will never fall 10 Like his till they are dead. By night or day blow foul or fair, Ne'er will the best of all your train Play with the locks of his white hair, Or stand between his knees again. 15 Here did he sit confined for hours; But he could see the woods and plains, Could hear the wind and mark the showers Come streaming down the streaming panes. Now stretched beneath his grass-green mound 20 He rests a prisoner of the ground. He loved the breathing air, He loved the sun, but if it rise Or set, to him where now he lies, Brings not a moment's care. 25 Alas! what idle words; but take The Dirge which for our Master's sake And yours, love prompted me to make. The rhymes so homely in attire With learned ears may ill agree, 30 But chanted by your Orphan Quire Will make a touching melody. DIRGE Mourn, Shepherd, near thy old grey stone; Thou Angler, by the silent flood; And mourn when thou art all alone, 35 Thou Woodman, in the distant wood! Thou one blind Sailor, rich in joy Though blind, thy tunes in sadness hum; And mourn, thou poor half-witted Boy! Born deaf, and living deaf and dumb. 40 Thou drooping sick Man, bless the Guide Who checked or turned thy headstrong youth, As he before had sanctified Thy infancy with heavenly truth. Ye Striplings, light of heart and gay, 45 Bold settlers on some foreign shore, Give, when your thoughts are turned this way, A sigh to him whom we deplore.