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And thus, to Betty's question, he
Made answer, like a traveller bold,
(His very words I give to you)
“The cocks did crow to-whoo, to-whoo,
And the sun did shine so cold !".
- Thus answered Johnny in his glory,
And that was all his travel's story.



“Pleasure is spread through the earth In stray gifts to be claimed by whoever shall find.”

By their floating mill,

That lies dead and still, Behold yon prisoners three, The miller with two dames, on the breast of

the Thames ! The platform is small, but gives room for all; .

And they're dancing merrily.

From the shore come the notes

To their mill where it floats,
To their house and their mill tethered fast:

To the small wooden isle where, their work

to beguile, They from morning to even take whatever is

given ;-
And many a blithe day they have past.

In sight of the spires,

All alive with the fires Of the sun going down to his rest, In the broad open eye of the solitary sky, They dance,—there are three, as jocund as free,

While they dance on the calm river's breast.

Men and Maidens wheel,

They themselves make the reel, And their music's a prey which they seize : It plays not for them, -what matter ? 'tis theirs ; And if they had care, it has scattered their

cares, While they dance, crying, “ Long as ye please!”

They dance not for me,

Yet mine is their glee ! Thus pleasure is spread through the earth In stray gifts to be claimed by whoever shall

find : Thus a rich loving-kindness, redundantly kind,

Moves all nature to gladness and mirth.

The showers of the spring

Rouse the birds, and they sing;
If the wind do but stir for his proper delight,
Each leaf, that and this, his neighbour will kiss :
Each wave, one and t other, speeds after his

They are happy, for that is their right !



The dew was falling fast, the stars began to

blink; I heard a voice; it said, “Drink, pretty creature,

drink !" And, looking o'er the hedge, before me I espied A snow-white mountain-lamb, with a maiden at

its side.

Nor sheep nor kine were near; the lamb was

all alone, And by a slender cord was tethered to a stone ; With one knee on the grass did the little maiden

kneel, While to that mountain-lamb she gave its evening meal.

The lamb, while from her hand he thus his

supper took, Seemed to feast with head and ears; and his

tail with pleasure shook. “ Drink, pretty creature, drink,” she said in such

a tone That I almost received her heart into my own.

'Twas little Barbara Lewthwaite, a child of

beauty rare ! I watched them with delight, they were a lovely

pair. Now with her empty can the maiden turned

away : But ere ten yards were gone her footsteps did

she stay.

Right towards the lamb she looked : and from

a shady place I unobserved could see the workings of her

face; If Nature to her tongue could measured numbers

bring, Thus, thought I, to her lamb the little maid

might sing :

“What ails thee, young one ? what? Why pull

so at thy cord ? Is it not well with thee ? well both for bed and

board ? Thy plot of grass is soft, and green as grass can

be : Rest, little young one, rest; what is 't that aileth


“What is it thou wouldst seek ? What is want

ing to thy heart ? Thy limbs, are they not strong? And beautiful

thou art : This grass is tender grass : these flowers they

have no peers : And that green corn all day is rustling in thy


“ If the sun be shining hot, do but stretch thy

woollen chain, This beech is standing by, its covert thou canst

gain ; For rain and mountain-storms! the like thou

needst not fear, The rain and storm are things that scarcely can

come here.

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