Here Michael ceased, and to the fields went forth
  With a light heart.  The Housewife for five days
  Was restless morn and night, and all day long 285
  Wrought on with her best fingers to prepare
  Things needful for the journey of her son. 
  But Isabel was glad when Sunday came
  To stop her in her work; for, when she lay
  By Michael’s side, she through the last two nights 290
  Heard him, how he was troubled in his sleep: 
  And when they rose at morning she could see
  That all his hopes were gone.  That day at noon
  She said to Luke, while they two by themselves
  Were sitting at the door, “Thou must not go:  295
  We have no other Child but thee to lose,
  None to remember—­do not go away,
  For if thou leave thy Father he will die.” 
  The Youth made answer with a jocund voice;
  And Isabel, when she had told her fears, 300
  Recovered heart.  That evening her best fare
  Did she bring forth, and all together sat
  Like happy people round a Christmas fire.

  With daylight Isabel resumed her work;
  And all the ensuing week the house appeared 305
  As cheerful as a grove in Spring:  at length
  The expected letter from their kinsman came,
  With kind assurances that he would do
  His utmost for the welfare of the Boy;
  To which requests were added, that forthwith 310
  He might be sent to him.  Ten times or more
  The letter was read over; Isabel
  Went forth to show it to the neighbors round;
  Nor was there at that time on English land
  A prouder heart than Luke’s.  When Isabel 315
  Had to her house returned, the old Man said,
  “He shall depart to-morrow.”  To this word
  The Housewife answered, talking much of things
  Which, if at such short notice he should go,
  Would surely be forgotten.  But at length 320
  She gave consent, and Michael was at ease. 
  Near the tumultuous brook of Green-head Ghyll,
  In that deep valley, Michael had designed
  To build a Sheep-fold; and, before he heard
  The tidings of his melancholy loss, 325
  For this same purpose he had gathered up
  A heap of stones, which by the streamlet’s edge
  Lay thrown together, ready for the work. 
  With Luke that evening thitherward he walked;
  And soon as they had reached the place he stopped, 330
  And thus the old man spake to him:—­“My Son,
  To-morrow thou wilt leave me; with full heart
  I look upon thee, for thou art the same
  That wert a promise to me ere thy birth
  And all thy life hast been my daily joy. 335
  I will relate to thee some little part
  Of our two histories; ’twill do thee good
  When thou art from me, even if I should touch
  On things thou canst not know of.------After