Poems, in Two Volumes (Wordsworth, 1807)/Volume 1/Fidelity
For other versions of this work, see Fidelity (Wordsworth).
FIDELITY.
A barking sound the Shepherd hears,A cry as of a Dog or Fox;He halts, and searches with his eyesAmong the scatter'd rocks:And now at distance can discernA stirring in a brake of fern;From which immediately leaps outA Dog, and yelping runs about.
The Dog is not of mountain breed;It's motions, too, are wild and shy;With something, as the Shepherd thinks,Unusual in it's cry:Nor is there any one in sightAll round, in Hollow or on Height;Nor shout, nor whistle strikes his ear;What is the Creature doing here?
It was a Cove, a huge Recess,That keeps till June December's snow;A lofty Precipice in front,A silent Tarn[1] below!Far in the bosom of Helvellyn,Remote from public Road or Dwelling,Pathway, or cultivated land;From trace of human foot or hand.
There, sometimes does a leaping FishSend through the Tarn a lonely chear;The Crags repeat the Raven's croak,In symphony austere;Thither the Rainbow comes, the Cloud;And Mists that spread the flying shroud;And Sun-beams; and the sounding blast,That, if it could, would hurry past,But that enormous Barrier binds it fast.
Not knowing what to think, a whileThe Shepherd stood: then makes his wayTowards the Dog, o'er rocks and stones,As quickly as he may;Nor far had gone before he foundA human skeleton on the ground,Sad sight! the Shepherd with a sighLooks round, to learn the history.
From those abrupt and perilous rocks,The Man had fallen, that place of fear!At length upon the Shepherd's mindIt breaks, and all is clear:He instantly recall'd the Name,And who he was, and whence he came;Remember'd, too, the very dayOn which the Traveller pass'd this way.
But hear a wonder now, for sakeOf which this mournful Tale I tell!À lasting monument of wordsThis wonder merits well.The Dog, which still was hovering nigh,Repeating the same timid cry,This Dog had been through three months' spaceA Dweller in that savage place.
Yes, proof was plain that since the dayOn which the Traveller thus had diedThe Dog had watch'd about the spot,Or by his Master's side:How nourish'd here through such long timeHe knows, who gave that love sublime,And gave that strength of feeling, greatAbove all human estimate.
- ↑ Tarn is a small Mere or Lake mostly high up in the mountains.