... his hands, ... 1800.] * * * * * FOOTNOTES ON THE TEXT [Footnote A: "Pour me plaindre a moy, regarde noti tant ce qu'on moste, que ce qui me reste de sauvre, et dedans et dehors." Montaigne, 'Essais', iii. 12. Compare also: "Themistocles quidem, cum ei Simonides, an quis alius artem memoriæ polliceretur, _Oblivionis_, inquit, _mallem_; _nam memini etiam quæ nolo, oblivisci non possum quæ volo_." Cicero, 'De Finibus', II. 32.--Ed.] * * * * * TO A SEXTON Composed 1799.--Published 1800 [Written in Germany, 1799.--I.F.] One of the "Poems of the Fancy."--Ed. Let thy wheel-barrow alone-- Wherefore, Sexton, piling still In thy bone-house bone on bone? 'Tis already like a hill In a field of battle made, 5 Where three thousand skulls are laid; These died in peace each with the other,-- Father, sister, friend, and brother. Mark the spot to which I point! From this platform, eight feet square, 10 Take not even a finger-joint: Andrew's whole fire-side is there. Here, alone, before thine eyes, Simon's sickly daughter lies, From weakness now, and pain defended, 15 Whom he twenty winters tended. Look but at the gardener's pride-- How he glories, when he sees Roses, lilies, side by side, Violets in families! 20 By the heart of Man, his tears, By his hopes and by his fears, Thou, too heedless, [1] art the Warden Of a far superior garden. Thus then, each to other dear, 25 Let them all in quiet lie, Andrew there, and Susan here, Neighbours in mortality. And, should I live through sun and rain Seven widowed years without my Jane, 30 O Sexton, do not then remove her, Let one grave hold the Loved and Lover! * * * * * VARIANTS ON THE TEXT [Variant 1: 1845. Thou, old Grey-beard! ... 1800.] * * * * * THE DANISH BOY A FRAGMENT Composed 1799.--Published 1800 [Written in Germany, 1799. It was entirely a fancy; but intended as a prelude to a ballad-poem never written.--I.F.] In the editions of 1800-1832 this poem was called 'A Fragment'. From 1836 onwards it was named 'The Danish Boy. A Fragment'. It was one of the "Poems of the Fancy."--Ed. I Between two sister moorland rills There is a spot that seems to lie Sacred to flowerets of the hills, And sacred to the sky. And in this smooth and open dell 5 There is a tempest-stricken tree; A corner-stone by lightning cut, The last stone of a lonely hut; [1] And in this dell you see A thing no storm can e'er destroy, 10 The shadow of a Danish Boy. [A]