More might have followed--but my honoured Friend Broke in upon the Speaker with a frank And cordial greeting.--Vivid was the light 514 That flashed and sparkled from the other's eyes;[169][CH] He was all fire: no shadow on his brow Remained, nor sign of sickness on his face.[170] Hands joined he with his Visitant,--a grasp, An eager grasp; and many moments' space-- When the first glow of pleasure was no more, 520 And, of the sad appearance which at once Had vanished, much was come and coming back--[171] An amicable smile retained the life Which it had unexpectedly received, Upon his hollow cheek. "How kind," he said, 525 "Nor could your coming have been better timed; For this, you see, is in our narrow[172] world A day of sorrow. I have here a charge"-- And, speaking thus, he patted tenderly The sun-burnt forehead of the weeping child-- 530 "A little mourner, whom it is my task To comfort;--but how came ye?--if yon track (Which doth at once befriend us and betray) Conducted hither your most welcome feet, Ye could not miss the funeral train--they yet 535 Have scarcely disappeared." "This blooming Child," Said the old Man, "is of an age to weep At any grave or solemn spectacle, Inly distressed or overpowered with awe, He knows not wherefore;--but the boy to-day, 540 Perhaps is shedding orphan's tears; you also[173] Must have sustained a loss."--"The hand of Death," He answered, "has been here; but could not well Have fallen more lightly, if it had not fallen Upon myself."--The other left these words 545 Unnoticed, thus continuing-- "From yon crag, Down whose steep sides we dropped into the vale, We heard the hymn they sang--a solemn sound Heard any where; but in a place like this 'Tis more than human! Many precious rites 550 And customs of our rural ancestry Are gone, or stealing from us; this, I hope, Will last for ever.[CI] Oft on my way have I Stood still, though but a casual passenger, So much I felt the awfulness of life,[174] 555 In that one moment when the corse is lifted In silence, with a hush of decency; Then from the threshold moves with song of peace, And confidential yearnings, tow'rds its home, Its final home on earth.[175] What traveller--who-- 560 (How far soe'er a stranger) does not own The bond of brotherhood, when he sees them go, A mute procession on the houseless road; Or passing by some single tenement Or clustered dwellings, where again they raise 565 The monitory voice? But most of all It touches, it confirms, and elevates, Then, when the body, soon to be consigned