Page:Poems By Chauncy Hare Townshend.djvu/91

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Yes, it was he ! �The ghastly-starlfig eye, Which, open still, oeem'd ilfe's dread The Bvid blnoknoss of the eh?ek, nnt?old The tale: af boztO?, ere it yet is tokL 'Twas at the close of the l?eoedi? day? Vtrhen ?therin? eloud? gave sl? tO light's d?e?y, A nelghbour saw the boy, with asl?,ct wild, Brush quickly by; yeh as he pass'd, he stall'd, He felt inclin'd, he said, to stop the lad, And ask him, "vtrl?ther t?m?ing? Art thou mad?" "Almost," he added, ('twas his Usual word, The gentle favorite of th' inactive herd, Who idle curiosity condemn, And heed but little what regard? not them) Almost he meant to follow, and he bent His s?ps awhile the way that EdmUnd went. The boy was gone, and, when he saw' him not, He thottght it cold, turn'd homeward s and for?ot. He too was one not overski!I'd to trac? The mind's e?'pressi?/e movements ii? the face Or how, untimely victim of despair, Gaz'd he on thh?e, nor saw death written there There is a nook, where elms O*erbranehing shield A lonely hovel in a spaciou? ?ield, Where the wild colt in summer might retreat, Escape the show'r, or slme the saltry heat. ......... ?Google