Stood single, and, from matchless depth of shade,
  Chosen for the shearer’s covert from the sun,
  Thence in our rustic dialect was called
  The clipping tree, a name which yet it bears. 
  There, while they two were sitting in the shade, 170
  With others round them, earnest all and blithe,
  Would Michael exercise his heart with looks
  Of fond correction and reproof bestowed
  Upon the Child, if he disturbed the sheep
  By catching at their legs, or with his shouts 175
  Scared them while they lay still beneath the shears.

  And when by Heaven’s good grace the Boy grew up
  A healthy Lad, and carried in his cheek
  Two steady roses that were five years old;
  Then Michael from a winter coppice cut 180
  With his own hand a sapling, which he hooped
  With iron, making it throughout in all
  Due requisites a perfect shepherd’s staff,
  And gave it to the Boy; wherewith equipped
  He as a watchman oftentimes was placed 185
  At gate or gap, to stem or turn the flock;
  And, to his office prematurely called,
  There stood the urchin, as you will divine,
  Something between a hindrance and a help;
  And for this cause not always, I believe, 190
  Receiving from his Father hire of praise;
  Though naught was left undone which staff, or voice,
  Or looks, or threatening gestures, could perform,

  But soon as Luke, full ten years old, could stand
  Against the mountain blasts; and to the heights, 195
  Not fearing toil, nor length of weary ways,
  He with his Father daily went, and they
  Were as companions, why should I relate
  That objects which the Shepherd loved before
  Were dearer now? that from the Boy there came 200
  Feelings and emanations,—­things which were
  Light to the sun and music to the wind;
  And that the old Man’s heart seemed born again?

  Thus in his Father’s sight the boy grew up: 
  And now, when he had reached his eighteenth year, 205
  He was his comfort and his daily hope.

  While in this sort the simple household lived
  From day to day, to Michael’s ear there came
  Distressful tidings.  Long before the time
  Of which I speak, the Shepherd had been bound 210
  In surety for his brother’s son, a man
  Of an industrious life, and ample means;
  But unforeseen misfortunes suddenly
  Had pressed upon him; and old Michael now
  Was summoned to discharge the forfeiture, 215
  A grievous penalty, but little less
  Than half his substance.  This unlooked-for claim,
  At the first hearing, for a moment took
  More hope out of his life than he supposed
  That any old man ever could have lost. 220
  As soon as he had armed himself with strength