55
  Over the vessel’s side, and gaze and gaze;
  And, while the broad blue [6] wave and sparkling foam
  Flashed round him images and hues that wrought
  In union with the employment of his heart,
  He, thus by feverish passion overcome, 60
  Even with the organs of his bodily eye,
  Below him, in the bosom of the deep,
  Saw mountains; saw the forms of sheep that grazed
  On verdant hills—­with dwellings among trees,
  And shepherds clad in the same country grey 65
  Which he himself had worn. [C]

                             And now, at last, [7]
  From perils manifold, with some small wealth
  Acquired by traffic ’mid [8] the Indian Isles,
  To his paternal home he is returned, 70
  With a determined purpose to resume
  The life he had lived there; [9] both for the sake
  Of many darling pleasures, and the love
  Which to an only brother he has borne
  In all his hardships, since that happy time 75
  When, whether it blew foul or fair, they two
  Were brother-shepherds on their native hills. 
—­They were the last of all their race:  and now,
  When Leonard had approached his home, his heart
  Failed in him; and, not venturing to enquire 80
  Tidings of one so long and dearly loved, [10]
  He to the solitary church-yard turned; [11]
  That, as he knew in what particular spot
  His family were laid, he thence might learn
  If still his Brother lived, or to the file 85
  Another grave was added.—­He had found
  Another grave,—­near which a full half-hour
  He had remained; but, as he gazed, there grew
  Such a confusion in his memory,
  That he began to doubt; and even to hope [12] 90
  That he had seen this heap of turf before,—­
  That it was not another grave; but one
  He had forgotten.  He had lost his path,
  As up the vale, that afternoon, he walked [13]
  Through fields which once had been well known to him:  95
  And oh what joy this [14] recollection now
  Sent to his heart! he lifted up his eyes,
  And, looking round, imagined that he saw [15]
  Strange alteration wrought on every side
  Among the woods and fields, and that the rocks, 100
  And everlasting hills [16] themselves were changed.

  By this the Priest, who down the field had come,
  Unseen by Leonard, at the church-yard gate
  Stopped short,—­and thence, at leisure, limb by limb
  Perused him [17] with a gay complacency. 105
  Ay, thought the Vicar, smiling to himself,
  ’Tis one of those who needs must leave the path
  Of the world’s business to go wild alone: 
  His arms have a perpetual holiday;
  The happy man will creep about the fields,