1837.

... under Jedborough Tower There liveth in the prime of glee, A Woman, whose years are seventy-three, And She ... 1807.

  There lives a woman of seventy-three,
  And she will dance and sing with thee, MS.

  A Matron dwells, who though she bears
  Our mortal complement of years,
  Lives in the light of youthful glee, 1827.]

[Variant 3: 

1827.

  ... for mirth and cheer? 1807.]

[Variant 4: 

1827.

  I look’d, I scann’d her o’er and o’er;
  The more I look’d I wonder’d more:  1807.]

[Variant 5: 

1837.

  When suddenly I seem’d to espy
  A trouble in her strong black eye; 1807.

  A moment gave me to espy
  A trouble . . . 1827.]

[Variant 6: 

1827.

  And soon she made this matter plain;
  And told me, in a thoughtful strain, 1807.]

[Variant 7: 

  As bad almost as Life can bring, Added in MS.]

* * * * *

FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT

[Footnote A:  Compare Tennyson’s ‘Deserted House’, stanza iv.: 

  ’Come away:  no more of mirth
  Is here, or merry-making sound.’

Ed.]

[Footnote B:  Compare stanza xiii. of ‘Resolution and Independence’, p. 318.—­Ed.]

Sept. 20, 1803.

“We were received with hearty welcome by a good woman, who, though above seventy years old, moved about as briskly as if she was only seventeen.  Those parts of the house which we were to occupy were neat and clean; she showed me every corner, and, before I had been ten minutes in the house, opened her very drawers that I might see what a stock of linen she had; then asked how long we should stay, and said she wished we were come for three months.  She was a most remarkable person; the alacrity with which she ran up-stairs when we rung the bell, and guessed at, and strove to prevent, our wants was surprising; she had a quick eye, and keen strong features, and a joyousness in her motions, like what used to be in old Molly when she was particularly elated.  I found afterwards that she had been subject to fits of dejection and ill-health:  we then conjectured that her overflowing gaiety and strength might in part be attributed to the same cause as her former dejection.  Her husband was deaf and infirm, and sate in a chair with scarcely the power to move a limb—­an affecting contrast!  The old woman said they had been a very hard-working pair; they had wrought like slaves at their trade—­her husband had been a currier; and she told me how they had portioned off their daughters with money, and each a feather bed, and that in their old age they had laid out the little they could spare in