"A recreant harp, that sings of fear And heaviness in Clifford's ear! I said, when evil men are strong, No life is good, no pleasure long, 105 A weak and cowardly untruth! Our Clifford was a happy Youth, And thankful through a weary time, That brought him up to manhood's prime. --Again he wanders forth at will, 110 And tends a flock from hill to hill:[6] His garb is humble; ne'er was seen Such garb with such a noble mien; Among the shepherd grooms no mate Hath he, a Child of strength and state! 115 Yet lacks not friends for simple[7] glee, Nor yet for higher sympathy.[8] To his side the fallow-deer Came, and rested without fear; The eagle, lord of land and sea, 120 Stooped down to pay him fealty;[E] And both the undying fish that swim Through Bowscale-tarn did wait on him;[F] The pair were servants of his eye In their immortality; 125 And glancing, gleaming, dark or bright, Moved to and fro, for his delight.[9] He knew the rocks which Angels haunt Upon[10] the mountains visitant; He hath kenned[11] them taking wing: 130 And into caves[12] where Faeries sing He hath entered; and been told By Voices how men lived of old. Among the heavens his eye can see The face of thing[13] that is to be; 135 And, if that men report him right, His tongue could whisper words of might.[14] --Now another day is come, Fitter hope, and nobler doom; He hath thrown aside his crook, 140 And hath buried deep his book; Armour rusting in his halls On the blood of Clifford calls;--[G] 'Quell the Scot,' exclaims the Lance-- Bear me to the heart of France, 145 Is the longing of the Shield-- Tell thy name, thou trembling Field; Field of death, where'er thou be, Groan thou with our victory! Happy day, and mighty hour, 150 When our Shepherd, in his power, Mailed and horsed, with lance and sword, To his ancestors restored Like a re-appearing Star, Like a glory from afar, 155 First shall head the flock of war!" Alas! the impassioned minstrel did not know How, by Heaven's grace, this Clifford's heart was framed: How he, long forced in humble walks to go,[15] Was softened into feeling, soothed, and tamed. 160 Love had he found in huts where poor men lie; His daily teachers had been woods and rills, The silence that is in[16] the starry sky, The sleep that is among the lonely hills.