—­When through this little wreck of fame,
  Cipher and syllable! thine eye 10
  Has travelled down to Matthew’s name,
  Pause with no common sympathy.

  And; if a sleeping tear should wake,
  Then be it neither checked nor stayed: 
  For Matthew a request I make 15
  Which for himself he had not made.

  Poor Matthew, all his frolics o’er,
  Is silent as a standing pool;
  Far from the chimney’s merry roar,
  And murmur of the village school. 20

  The sighs which Matthew heaved were sighs
  Of one tired out with fun and madness;
  The tears which came to Matthew’s eyes
  Were tears of light, the dew [1] of gladness.

  Yet, sometimes, when the secret cup 25
  Of still and serious thought went round,
  It seemed as if he drank it up—­
  He felt with spirit so profound.

—­Thou soul of God’s best earthly mould! 
  Thou happy Soul! and can it be 30
  That these two words of glittering gold
  Are all that must remain of thee? [2]

* * * * *

VARIANTS ON THE TEXT

[Variant 1: 

1815.

  ... the oil ... 1800.]

[Variant 2: 

1800.

  ... to thee? 1805, and MS.

The text of 1815 returns to that of 1800.]

* * * * *

FOOTNOTES ON THE TEXT

[Footnote A:  On the 27th March 1843, Wordsworth wrote to Professor Henry Reed of Philadelphia: 

“The character of the schoolmaster, had like the Wanderer in ’The Excursion’ a solid foundation in fact and reality, but like him it was also in some degree a composition:  I will not, and need not, call it an invention—­it was no such thing.”

Ed.]

* * * * *

THE TWO APRIL MORNINGS

Composed 1799.—­Published 1800

One of the “Poems of Sentiment and Reflection.”—­Ed.

  We walked along, while bright and red
  Uprose the morning sun;
  And Matthew stopped, he looked, and said,
  “The will of God be done!”

  A village schoolmaster was he, 5
  With hair of glittering grey;
  As blithe a man as you could see
  On a spring holiday.

  And on that morning, through the grass,
  And by the steaming rills, 10
  We travelled merrily, to pass
  A day among the hills.

  “Our work,” said I, “was well begun,
  Then, from thy breast what thought,
  Beneath so beautiful a sun, 15
  So sad a sigh has brought?”