Down from the ceiling, by the chimney’s edge, 110
  That in our ancient uncouth country style
  With huge and black projection overbrowed
  Large space beneath, as duly as the light
  Of day grew dim the Housewife hung a lamp;
  An aged utensil, which had performed 115
  Service beyond all others of its kind. 
  Early at evening did it burn,—­and late,
  Surviving comrade of uncounted hours,
  Which, going by from year to year, had found,
  And left the couple neither gay perhaps 120
  Nor cheerful, yet with objects and with hopes,
  Living a life of eager industry. 
  And now, when Luke had reached his eighteenth year,
  There by the light of this old lamp they sate,
  Father and Son, while far into the night 125
  The Housewife plied her own peculiar work,
  Making the cottage through the silent hours
  Murmur as with the sound of summer flies. 
  This light was famous in its neighborhood,
  And was a public symbol of the life 130
  That thrifty Pair had lived.  For, as it chanced;
  Their cottage on a plot of rising ground
  Stood single, with large prospect, north and south,
  High into Easedale, up to Dunmail-Raise,
  And westward to the village near the lake; 135
  And from this constant light, so regular,
  And so far seen, the House itself, by all
  Who dwelt within the limits of the vale,
  Both old and young, was named the evening star.

  Thus living on through such a length of years, 140
  The Shepherd, if he loved himself, must needs
  Have loved his Helpmate; but to Michael’s heart
  This son of his old age was yet more dear—­
  Less from instinctive tenderness, the same
  Fond spirit that blindly works in the blood of all—­ 145
  Than that a child, more than all other gifts
  That earth can offer to declining man,
  Brings hope with it, and forward-looking thoughts,
  And stirrings of inquietude, when they
  By tendency of nature needs must fail. 150
  Exceeding was the love he bare to him,
  His heart and his heart’s joy!  For oftentimes
  Old Michael, while he was a babe in arms,
  Had done him female service, not alone
  For pastime and delight, as is the use 155
  Of fathers, but with patient mind enforced
  To acts of tenderness; and he had rocked
  His cradle, as with a woman’s gentle hand. 
  And in a later time, ere yet the Boy
  Had put on boy’s attire, did Michael love, 160
  Albeit of a stern, unbending mind,
  To have the Young-one in his sight, when he
  Wrought in the field, or on his shepherd’s stool
  Sat with a fettered sheep before him stretched
  Under the large old oak, that near his door 165