Country life -- England; England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century
Early had he learned
To reverence the volume that displays
The mystery, the life which cannot die:--
What wonder if his being thus became
Sublime and comprehensive! Low desires,
Low thoughts, there had no place; yet was his heart
Lowly; for he was meek in gratitude,
Oft as he called those ecstasies to mind,
And whence they flowed; and from them he acquired
Wisdom, which works through patience:--hence he learned
In oft-recurring hours of sober thought
To look on nature with a humble heart,
Self-questioned, where it did not understand,
And with a superstitious eye of love.
So passed the time; yet to the nearest town
He duly went, with what small overplus
His earnings might supply, and brought away
The book that most had tempted his desires,
While at the stall he read. Among the hills
He gazed upon that mighty orb of song,
The divine Milton. Lore of different kind,
The annual savings of a toilsome life,
His schoolmaster supplied; books that explain
The purer elements of truth, involved,
In lines and numbers, and, by charm severe,
(Especially perceived where nature droops,
And feeling is suppressed) preserve the mind
Busy in solitude and poverty.
Yet still uppermost,
Nature was at his heart, as if he felt,
Though yet he knew not how, a wasting power
In all things that from her sweet influence
Might tend to wean him. Therefore, with her hues,
Her forms, and with the spirit of her forms,
He clothed the nakedness of austere truth,
While yet he lingered in the rudiments
Of science, and among her simplest laws,
His triangles--they were the stars of heaven,
The silent stars! Oft did he take delight
To measure th’ altitude of some tall crag
That is the eagle’s birthplace, or some peak
Familiar with forgotten years.----
In dreams, in study, and in ardent thought,
Thus was he reared; much wanting to assist
The growth of intellect, yet gaining more,
And every moral feeling of his soul
Strengthened and braced, by breathing in content
The keen, the wholesome air of poverty,
And drinking from the well of homely life.
_The Excursion_, B. 1.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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