Page:Poems by William Wordsworth (1815) Volume 1.djvu/244

184 And Betty's standing at the door,

And Betty's face with joy o'erflows,

Proud of herself, and proud of him,

She sees him in his travelling trim;

How quietly her Johnny goes.

The silence of her Idiot Boy,

What hopes it sends to Betty's heart!

He's at the Guide-post—he turns right,

She watches till he's out of sight,

And Betty will not then depart.

Burr, burr—now Johnny's lips they burr,

As loud as any mill, or near it;

Meek as a lamb the Pony moves,

And Johnny makes the noise he loves,

And Betty listens, glad to hear it.

Away she hies to Susan Gale:

And Johnny's in a merry tune;

The Owlets hoot, the Owlets curr,

And Johnny's lips they burr, burr, burr,—

And on he goes beneath the Moon.