Page:Lyrical ballads, Volume 2, Wordsworth, 1800.djvu/27

19 The BROTHERS.

These Tourists, Heaven preserve us! needs must live

A profitable life: some glance along,

Rapid and gay, as if the earth were air,

And they were butterflies to wheel about

Long as their summer lasted; some, as wise,

Upon the forehead of a jutting crag

Sit perch'd with book and pencil on their knee,

And look and scribble, scribble on and look,

Until a man might travel twelve stout miles,

Or reap an acre of his neighbour's corn.