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The Old Man still stood talking by my side;But now his voice to me was like a streamScarce heard; nor word from word could I divide;And the whole Body of the man did seemLike one whom I had met with in a dream;Or like a Man from some far region sent;To give me human strength, and strong admonishment.
My former thoughts return'd: the fear that kills;The hope that is unwilling to be fed;Cold, pain, and labour, and all fleshly ills;And mighty Poets in their misery dead.And now, not knowing what the Old Man had said,My question eagerly did I renew,"How is it that you live, and what is it you do?"
He with a smile did then bis words repeat;And said, that, gathering Leeches, far and wideHe travelled; stirring thus about his feet
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