Among the hills of Athol he was born; Where,[19] on a small hereditary farm, An unproductive slip of rugged ground, 110 His Parents, with their numerous offspring, dwelt;[20] A virtuous household, though exceeding poor! Pure livers were they all, austere and grave, And fearing God;[AB] the very children taught Stern self-respect, a reverence for God's word, 115 And an habitual piety, maintained With strictness scarcely known on English ground. From his sixth year, the Boy of whom I speak, In summer, tended cattle on the hills; But, through the inclement and the perilous days 120 Of long-continuing winter, he repaired, Equipped with satchel, to a school, that stood[21] Sole building on a mountain's dreary edge, Remote from view[22] of city spire, or sound Of minster clock! From that bleak tenement 125 He, many an evening, to his distant home In solitude returning, saw the hills Grow larger in the darkness; all alone Beheld the stars come out above his head, And travelled through the wood, with no one near To whom he might confess the things he saw. 131 So the foundations of his mind were laid. In such communion, not from terror free,[AC] While yet a child, and long before his time, Had he[23] perceived the presence and the power 135 Of greatness; and deep feelings had impressed So vividly great objects that they lay Upon his mind like substances, whose presence Perplexed the bodily sense. He had received[24] [25]A precious gift; for, as he grew in years, 140 With these impressions would he still compare All his remembrances, thoughts, shapes, and forms; And, being still unsatisfied with aught Of dimmer character, he thence attained An active power to fasten images 145 Upon his brain; and on their pictured lines Intensely brooded, even till they acquired The liveliness of dreams.[AD] Nor did he fail, While yet a child, with a child's eagerness Incessantly to turn his ear and eye 150 On all things which the moving seasons brought To feed such appetite--nor this alone Appeased his yearning:--in the after-day Of boyhood, many an hour in caves forlorn, And 'mid the hollow depths of naked crags 155 He sate, and even in their fixed lineaments, Or from the power of a peculiar eye, Or by creative feeling overborne, Or by predominance of thought oppressed, Even in their fixed and steady lineaments 160 He traced an ebbing and a flowing mind, Expression ever varying! Thus informed, He had small need of books; for many a tale Traditionary, round the mountains hung,