Why do I watch those running deer? And wherefore, wherefore come they here? 10 And wherefore do I seem to love The things that live, the things that move? Why do I look upon the sky? I do not live for what I see. Why open thus mine eyes? To die 15 Is all that now is left for me, If I could smother up my heart My life would then at once depart. My friends, you live, and yet you seem To me the people of a dream; 20 A dream in which there is no love, And yet, my friends, you live and move. When I could live without a pain, And feel no wish to be alive, In quiet hopelessness I sleep, 25 Alas! how quiet, and how deep! Oh no! I do not, cannot rue, I did not strive to follow you. I might have dropp’d, and died alone On unknown snows, a spot unknown. 30 This spot to me must needs be dear, Of my dear friends I see the trace. You saw me, friends, you laid me here, You know where my poor bones shall be, Then wherefore should I fear to die? 35 Alas that one beloved, forlorn, Should lie beneath the cold starlight! With them I think I could have borne The journey of another night, And with my friends now far away 40 I could have lived another day. THE OLD CUMBERLAND BEGGAR MS. Variants, not inserted in Vol. I. (l. 3) On a small pile of humble masonry Placed at the foot of … (l. 24) He travels on, a solitary man. His age has no companion. He is weak, So helpless in appearance that, for him The sauntering horseman-traveller does not throw With careless hand his pence upon the ground But stops that he may lodge the coin Safe in the old man’s hat: nor quits him so, But as he goes towards him turns a look Sidelong and half-reverted.… 1800 ANDREW JONES Composed 1800.--Published 1800 _Andrew Jones_ was included in the “Lyrical Ballads” of 1800, 1802, 1805, and in the Poems of 1815. It was also printed in _The Morning Post_, February 10, 1801. It was not republished after 1815. With this poem compare _The Old Cumberland Beggar_.--ED. I hate that Andrew Jones; he’ll breed His children up to waste and pillage. I wish the press-gang or the drum Would with its rattling music come,[341] And sweep him from the village! 5