Page:The pilgrim's progress by John Bunyan every child can read (1909).djvu/411

Rh Behind the house where Marian dwelt,

Far off in the distance, lay

A high steep hill, which the sun at morn

Tinged with its earliest ray.

"Difficulty" was its rightful name,

The child had often thought;

Towards this hill she turned her steps,

With hopeful visions fraught.

The flowers seemed to welcome her,

'Twas a lovely autumn morn.

The little lark sang merrily,

Above the waving corn.

"Ah, little lark, you sing," said she,

"On your early pilgrimage;

I, too, will sing, for pleasant thoughts

Should now my mind engage."

In clear, sweet strains she sang a hymn,

And tripped lightly on her way;

Until a pool of soft, thick mud

Across her pathway lay.

"This is the Slough of Despond," she cried,

But she bravely ventured through;

And safely reached the other side.

But she lost one little shoe.

On an old gray stone she sat her down,

To eat some fruit and bread;

Then took her little Bible out,

And a cheering psalm she read.