Page:Enoch Arden, etc - Tennyson - 1864.djvu/61

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ENOCH ARDEN.
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At lading and unlading the tall barks,That brought the stinted commerce of those days;Thus earn’d a scanty living for himself:Yet since he did but labour for himself,Work without hope, there was not life in itWhereby the man could live; and as the yearRoll’d itself round again to meet the dayWhen Enoch had return’d, a languor cameUpon him, gentle sickness, graduallyWeakening the man, till he could do no more,But kept the house, his chair, and last his bed.And Enoch bore his weakness cheerfully.For sure no gladlier does the stranded wreckSee thro’ the gray skirts of a lifting squallThe boat that bears the hope of life approachTo save the life despair’d of, than he sawDeath dawning on him, and the close of all.
 For thro’ that dawning gleam’d a kindlier hopeOn Enoch thinking ‘after I am gone,
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