Page:Peter Bell (Wordsworth).djvu/97

Part III. With weary pace is drawing nigh—

He sees the Ass—and nothing living

Had ever such a fit of joy

As had this little orphan Boy,

For he has no misgiving!

Towards the gentle Ass he springs,

And up about his neck he climbs;

In loving words he talks to him,

He kisses, kisses face and limb,—

He kisses him a thousand times!

This Peter sees, while in the shade

He stood beside the cottage door:

And Peter Bell, the ruffian wild,

Sobs loud, he sobs even like a child,

"Oh! God, I can endure no more!"