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Part II.
PETER BELL.
49
And hither is he come at last,
When he through such a day has gone,
By this dark cave to be distrest
Like a poor bird—her plunder'd nest
Hovering around with dolorous moan!
Of that intense and piercing cry
The listening Ass doth rightly spell;
Wild as it is he there can read
Some intermingl'd notes that plead
With touches irresistible;
But Peter, when he saw the Ass
Not only stop but turn, and change
The cherish'd tenor of his pace
That lamentable noise to chase,
It wrought in him conviction strange;
