That bars the Traveller's road, she often stood, Closed up each chink, and with fresh bands of straw The Old Man ceased: he saw that I was moved; From that low Bench, rising instinctively I turn'd aside in weakness, nor had power Which, mid the calm oblivious tendencies Of Nature, mid her plants, and weeds, and flowers, The Old Man, noting this, resumed, and said, By mist and silent rain-drops silver'd o'er, So still an image of tranquillity, So calm and still, and looked so beautiful He ceased. Ere long the sun declining shot A slant and mellow radiance, which began A thrush sang loud, and other melodies, 1 Together casting then a farewell look END OF THE FIRST BOOK. H |