strengthen thee:  amid all fear 415 And all temptation, Luke, I pray that thou May’st bear in mind the life thy Fathers lived, [44] Who, being innocent, did for that cause Bestir them in good deeds.  Now, fare thee well—­ When thou return’st, thou in this place wilt see 420 A work which is not here:  a covenant ’Twill be between us; but, whatever fate Befal thee, I shall love thee to the last, And bear thy memory with me to the grave.”

  The Shepherd ended here; and Luke stooped down, 425
  And, as his Father had requested, laid
  The first stone of the Sheep-fold.  At the sight
  The old Man’s grief broke from him; to his heart
  He pressed his Son, he kissed him and wept;
  And to the house together they returned. 430
—­Hushed was that House in peace, or seeming peace, [45]
  Ere the night fell:—­with morrow’s dawn the Boy [46]
  Began his journey, and when he had reached
  The public way, he put on a bold face;
  And all the neighbours, as he passed their doors, 435
  Came forth with wishes and with farewell prayers,
  That followed him till he was out of sight.

  A good report did from their Kinsman come,
  Of Luke and his well doing:  and the Boy
  Wrote loving letters, full of wondrous news, 440
  Which, as the Housewife phrased it, were throughout
  “The prettiest letters that were ever seen.” 
  Both parents read them with rejoicing hearts. 
  So, many months passed on:  and once again
  The Shepherd went about his daily work 445
  With confident and cheerful thoughts; and now
  Sometimes when he could find a leisure hour
  He to that valley took his way, and there
  Wrought at the Sheep-fold.  Meantime Luke began
  To slacken in his duty; and, at length, 450
  He in the dissolute city gave himself
  To evil courses:  ignominy and shame
  Fell on him, so that he was driven at last
  To seek a hiding-place beyond the seas.

  There is a comfort in the strength of love; 455
  ’Twill make a thing endurable, which else
  Would overset the brain, or break the heart:  [47]
  I have conversed with more than one who well
  Remember the old Man, and what he was
  Years after he had heard this heavy news. 460
  His bodily frame had been from youth to age
  Of an unusual strength.  Among the rocks
  He went, and still looked up to sun and cloud, [48]
  And listened to the wind; and, as before,
  Performed all kinds of labour for his sheep, 465
  And for the land, his small inheritance. 
  And to that hollow dell from time to time
  Did he repair, to build the Fold of which
  His flock had need.  ’Tis not forgotten yet
  The pity which was then in every heart 470
  For the old Man—­and ’tis believed by all
  That many and many a day he thither went,
  And never lifted up a single stone.