thou
  First cam’st into the world—­as oft befalls 340
  To newborn infants—­thou didst sleep away
  Two days, and blessings from thy Father’s tongue
  Then fell upon thee.  Day by day passed on,
  And still I loved thee with increasing love. 
  Never to living ear came sweeter sounds 345
  Than when I heard thee by our own fireside
  First uttering, without words, a natural tune;
  While thou, a feeding babe, didst in thy joy
  Sing at thy Mother’s breast.  Month followed month,
  And in the open fields my life was passed, 350
  And on the mountains; else I think that thou
  Hadst been brought up upon thy Father’s knees. 
  But we were playmates, Luke; among these hills,
  As well thou knowest, in us the old and young
  Have played together, nor with me didst thou 355
  Lack any pleasure which a boy can know.” 
  Luke had a manly heart; but at these words
  He sobbed aloud.  The old Man grasped his hand,
  And said, “Nay, do not take it so—­I see
  That these are things of which I need not speak. 360
  —­Even to the utmost I have been to thee
  A kind and a good Father; and herein
  I but repay a gift which I myself
  Received at others’ hands; for, though now old
  Beyond the common life of man, I still 365
  Remember them who loved me in my youth. 
  Both of them sleep together; here they lived,
  As all their Forefathers had done; and, when
  At length their time was come, they were not loath
  To give their bodies to the family mould. 370
  I wished that thou should’st live the life they lived;
  But ’tis a long time to look back, my Son,
  And see so little gain from threescore years. 
  These fields were burthened when they came to me;
  Till I was forty years of age, not more 375
  Than half of my inheritance was mine. 
  I toiled and toiled; God blessed me in my work,
  And till the three weeks past the land was free. 
  —­It looks as if it never could endure
  Another Master.  Heaven forgive me, Luke, 380
  If I judge ill for thee, but it seems good
  That thou shouldst go.”

  At this the old Man paused;
  Then, pointing to the stones near which they stood,
  Thus, after a short silence, he resumed: 
  “This was a work for us; and now, my Son, 385
  It is a work for me.  But, lay one stone,—­
  Here, lay it for me, Luke, with thine own hands. 
  Nay, Boy, be of good hope; we both may live
  To see a better day.  At eighty-four
  I still am strong and hale;—­do thou thy part; 390
  I will do mine.—­I will begin again
  With many tasks that were resigned to thee;
  Up to the heights, and in among the storms,
  Will I without thee go again, and do
  All works which I was wont to do alone,