 | Poems |  |
1
THE PEDESTRIAN.
My heart is light, and my strength is good,
And e'er night I shall pass yon dreary wood!
The red sun is sinking behind the hill,
And every thing around is still,
Save the murmuring sound, so pleasing and sweet,
Of the rippling river that runs at my feet;
And the nightingale chaunting his evening song,
To the traveller, wearily toiling along!
And e'er night I shall pass yon dreary wood!
The red sun is sinking behind the hill,
And every thing around is still,
Save the murmuring sound, so pleasing and sweet,
Of the rippling river that runs at my feet;
And the nightingale chaunting his evening song,
To the traveller, wearily toiling along!
But curling now from yon cottage I see
The dun smoke ascending so cheerily;
And the housewife now, with duteous care,
The evening meal begins to prepare;
And though for me no home is near,
No meal prepared with friendly cheer,
Yet so light is my heart, and my strength so good,
That e'er night I shall pass this dreary wood!
The dun smoke ascending so cheerily;
And the housewife now, with duteous care,
The evening meal begins to prepare;
And though for me no home is near,
No meal prepared with friendly cheer,
Yet so light is my heart, and my strength so good,
That e'er night I shall pass this dreary wood!
1825.
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