s version I am indebted to the collection made by Mary Pillsbury of
Newbury, which contains other original poems of Whittier never
published:--

A RETROSPECT

O visions of my boyhood! shades of rhymes!
Vain dreams and longings of my early times!
The work of intervals, a ploughboy's lore,
Oft conned by hearthlight when day's toil was o'er;
Or when through roof-cracks could at night behold
Bright stars in circle with pattens of gold;
Or stretched at noon while oaken branches cast
A restful shade, where rippling waters passed;
The ox unconscious panted at my side,
The good dog fondly his young master eyed,
And on the boughs above the forest bird
Alone rude snatches of the measure heard;
The measure that had sounded to me long,
And vain I sought to weave it in a song,
Or trace it, when the world's enchantment first
To longing eye, as kindling dawn's light, burst.
Then flattery's voice, in woman's gentlest tone,
Woke thoughts and feelings heretofore unknown,
And homes of wealth and beauty, wit and mirth,
By taste refined, by eloquence and worth,
Taught and diffused the intellect's high joy,
And gladly welcomed e'en a rustic boy;
Or when ambition's lip of flame and fear
Burned like the tempter's to my listening ear,
And a proud spirit, hidden deep and long,
Rose up for strife, stern, resolute, and strong,
Eager for toil, and proudly looking up
To higher levels for the world, with hope.

In these lines Whittier has told in brief the whole story of his life,
from his early dreaming by this brookside and at this hearthstone, to
the waking of his political ambitions, and later to his earnest strife
to bring up the world "to higher levels."

It happened that the day on which Whittier visited his birthplace for
the last time was toward the close of a spirited political campaign in
which Whittier took much interest, as General Butler was a candidate he
was opposing. Speaking of Butler reminded him of the pet ox of his
boyhood, which had the odd name of "Old Butler," between whose horns he
would sit as the animal chewed his cud under the hillside oaks. This
was the same ox that, in rushing down one of these steep hills for
salt, could not stop because of his momentum, but saved his young
master's life by leaping over his head. No doubt this ox was in mind
when he wrote the line just quoted, "The ox unconscious