XX. As the first human heir of earth With pensive eye himself survey'd, And, all unconscious of his birth, Sat thoughtful oft in Eden's shade; In pensive thought so Owen stray'd XXI. Why is this crook adorn'd with gold? "A silken vest like mine so green "I know it is no shepherd's art "This bracelet bright that binds my armIt could not come from shepherd's farm; It only would that arm annoy, If I were but a shepherd's boy. "And O thou silent picture fair, XXII. Ah, lovely youth! thy tender lay His little heart is large with love: The shepherdess, whose kindly care "O tell me, parent if thou art, "What is this lovely picture dear? "Why wounds its mournful eye my heart? "Why flows from mine th' unbidden tear?" "Ah, youth! to leave thee loth am I, "Though I be not thy parent dear; "And would'st thou wish, or ere I die, "The story of thy birth to hear? "But it will make thee much bewail, The heart that sorrow doom'd to share But when that seal is first imprest, Yet fled not Owen's-wild amaze The simple guardian of his life Look'd wistful for the tear to glide; But, when she saw his tearless strife, Silent, she lent him one-and died. XXV. "No, I am not a shepherd's boy," Awaking from his dream, he said: "Ah, where is now the promis'd joy "Of this?-for ever, ever fled! "O picture dear!-for her lov'd sake "How fondly could my heart bewail! My friendly shepherdess, O wake, "And tell me more of this sad tale: "O tell me more of this sad tale"No; thou enjoy thy gentle sleep! "And I will go to Lothian's vale, "And more than all her waters weep." XXVI. Owen to Lothian's vale is fled Earl Barnard's lofty towers appear "O! art thou there?" the full heart said, "O! art thou there, my parent dear?" Yes, she is there: from idle state Oft has she stole her hour to weep; Think how she "by thy cradle sat," And how she " fondly saw thee sleep." Now tries his trembling hand to frame O'er a fair fountain's smiling side That languish'd for its partner's loss. This scene he chose, this scene assign'd The hand that bore those lines of love, "She comes not;-can she then delay ?" "She comes-Oh! no-encircled round, « 'Tis some rude chief with many a spear. "My hapless tale that earl has found"Ah me! my heart!-for her I fear." His tender tale that earl had read, XXIX. 'Tis o'er-those locks that wav'd in gold, |