Page:Peter Bell (Wordsworth).djvu/54

38 Whereat, in resolute mood, once more

He stoops the Ass's neck to seize—

Foul purpose, quickly put to flight!

For in the pool a startling sight

Meets him, beneath the shadowy trees.

Is it the moon's distorted face?

The ghost-like image of a cloud?

Is it a gallows there pourtray'd?

Is Peter of himself afraid?

Is it a coffin,—or a shroud?

A grisly idol hewn in stone?

Or imp from witch's lap let fall?

Or a gay ring of shining fairies,

Such as pursue their brisk vagaries

In sylvan bower, or haunted hall?