Canto Third

Right gladly had the horses stirred,When they the wished-for greeting heard,The whip's loud notice from the door,That they were free to move once more.You think, those doings must have bredIn them disheartening doubts and dread;No, not a horse of all the eight,Although it be a moonless night,Fears either for himself or freight;For this they know (and let it hide,In part, the offences of their guide)That Benjamin, with clouded brains,Is worth the best with all their pains;And, if they had a prayer to make,The prayer would be that they may takeWith him whatever comes in course,The better fortune or the worse;That no one else may have business near them,And, drunk or sober, he may steer them.

So, forth in dauntless mood they fare,And with them goes the guardian pair.

Now, heroes, for the true commotion,The triumph of your late devotion!Can aught on earth impede delight,Still mounting to a higher height;And higher still--a greedy flight!Can any low-born care pursue her,Can any mortal clog come to her?No notion have they--not a thought,That is from joyless regions brought!And, while they coast the silent lake,Their inspiration I partake;Share their empyreal spirits--yea,With their enraptured vision, see--O fancy--what a jubilee!What shifting pictures--clad in gleamsOf colour bright as feverish dreams!Earth, spangled sky, and lake serene,Involved and restless all--a scenePregnant with mutual exaltation,Rich change, and multiplied creation!This sight to me the Muse imparts;--And then, what kindness in their hearts!What tears of rapture, what vow-making,Profound entreaties, and hand-shaking!What solemn, vacant, interlacing,As if they'd fall asleep embracing!Then, in the turbulence of glee,And in the excess of amity,Says Benjamin, "That Ass of thine,He spoils thy sport, and hinders mine:If he were tethered to the waggon,He'd drag as well what he is dragging;And we, as brother should with brother,Might trudge it alongside each other!"

Forthwith, obedient to command,The horses made a quiet stand;And to the waggon's skirts was tiedThe Creature, by the Mastiff's side,The Mastiff wondering, and perplextWith dread of what will happen next;And thinking it but sorry cheer,To have such company so near!

This new arrangement made, the WainThrough the still night proceeds again;No Moon hath risen her light to lend;But indistinctly may be kennedThe VANGUARD, following close behind,Sails spread, as if to catch the wind!

"Thy wife and child are snug and warm,Thy ship will travel without harm;I like," said Benjamin, "her shape and stature:And this of mine--this bulky creatureOf which I have the steering--this,Seen fairly, is not much amiss!We want your streamers, friend, you know;But, altogether as we go,We make a kind of handsome show!Among these hills, from first to last,We've weathered many a furious blast;Hard passage forcing on, with headAgainst the storm, and canvass spread.I hate a boaster; but to theeWill say't, who know'st both land and sea,The unluckiest hulk that stems the brineIs hardly worse beset than mine,When cross-winds on her quarter beat;And, fairly lifted from my feet,I stagger onward--heaven knows how;But not so pleasantly as now:Poor pilot I, by snows confounded,And many a foundrous pit surrounded!Yet here we are, by night and dayGrinding through rough and smooth our way;Through foul and fair our task fulfilling;And long shall be so yet--God willing!"

"Ay," said the Tar, "through fair and foul--But save us from yon screeching owl!"That instant was begun a frayWhich called their thoughts another way:The mastiff, ill-conditioned carl!What must he do but growl and snarl,Still more and more dissatisfiedWith the meek comrade at his side!Till, not incensed though put to proof,The Ass, uplifting a hind hoof,Salutes the Mastiff on the head;And so were better manners bred,And all was calmed and quieted.

"Yon screech-owl," says the Sailor, turningBack to his former cause of mourning,"Yon owl!--pray God that all be well!'Tis worse than any funeral bell;As sure as I've the gift of sight,We shall be meeting ghosts to-night!"--Said Benjamin, "This whip shall layA thousand, if they cross our way.I know that Wanton's noisy station,I know him and his occupation;The jolly bird hath learned his cheerUpon the banks of Windermere;Where a tribe of them make merry,Mocking the Man that keeps the ferry;Hallooing from an open throat,Like travellers shouting for a boat.--The tricks he learned at WindermereThis vagrant owl is playing here--That is the worst of his employment:He's at the top of his enjoyment!"

This explanation stilled the alarm,Cured the foreboder like a charm;This, and the manner, and the voice,Summoned the Sailor to rejoice;His heart is up--he fears no evilFrom life or death, from man or devil;He wheels --and, making many stops,Brandished his crutch against the mountain tops;And, while he talked of blows and scars,Benjamin, among the stars,Beheld a dancing--and a glancing;Such retreating and advancingAs, I ween, was never seenIn bloodiest battle since the days of Mars!