Page:Peter Bell (Wordsworth).djvu/41

Part I. He trudg'd along through copse and brake,

He trudg'd along o'er hill and dale;

Nor for the moon car'd he a tittle,

And for the stars he car'd as little,

And for the murmuring river Swale.

But chancing to espy a path

That promis'd to cut short the way:

As many a wiser man hath done,

He left a trusty guide for one

That might his steps betray.

To a thick wood he soon is brought

Where cheerfully his course he weaves,

And whistling loud may yet be heard,

Though often buried, like a bird

Darkling among the boughs and leaves.