Page:Poems by William Wordsworth (1815) Volume 1.djvu/80

20 "And whither are you going, Child,

To night along these lonesome ways?"

"To Durham" answered she half wild—

"Then come with me into the chaise."

She sate like one past all relief;

Sob after sob she forth did send

In wretchedness, as if her grief

Could never, never, have an end.

"My Child, in Durham do you dwell?"

She check'd herself in her distress,

And said, "My name is Alice Fell;

I'm fatherless and motherless.

And I to Durham, Sir, belong."

And then, as if the thought would choke

Her very heart, her grief grew strong;

And all was for her tattered Cloak!

The chaise drove on; our journey's end

Was nigh; and, sitting by my side,

As if she'd lost her only friend

She wept, nor would be pacified.