The Two April Mornings

We walked along, while bright and red Uprose the morning sun; And Matthew stopped, he looked, and said `The will of God be done!' A village schoolmaster was he, With hair of glittering grey; As blithe a man as you could see On a spring holiday. And on that morning, through the grass And by the steaming rills We travelled merrily, to pass A day among the hills. `Our work,' said I, `was well begun; Then, from thy breast what thought, Beneath so beautiful a sun, So sad a sigh has brought?' A second time did Matthew stop; And fixing still his eye Upon the eastern mountain-top, To me he made reply: `Yon cloud with that long purple cleft Brings fresh into my mind A day like this, which I have left Full thirty years behind. `And just above yon slope of corn Such colours, and no other, Were in the sky, that April morn, Of this the very brother. `With rod and line I sued the sport Which that sweet season gave, And, to the churchyard come, stopped short Beside my daughter's grave. `Nine summers had she scarcely seen, The pride of all the vale; And then she sang: she would have been A very nightingale. `Six feet in earth my Emma lay; And yet I loved her more For so it seemed, than till that day I e'er had loved before. `And turning from her grave, I met Beside the churchyard yew A blooming girl, whose hair was wet With points of morning dew. `A basket on her head she bare; Her brow was smooth and white: To see a child so very fair, It was a pure delight! `No fountain from its rocky cave E'er tripped with foot so free; She seemed as happy as a wave That dances on the sea. `There came from me a sigh of pain Which I could ill confine; I looked at her, and looked again: And did not wish her mine!' Matthew is in his grave, yet now Methinks I see him stand As that moment, with a bough Of wilding in his hand.