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16
At day-break on a hill they stood
That overlooked the Moor;
And thence they saw the Bridge of wood,
A furlong from their door.
And, turning homeward, now they cried
"In Heaven we all shall meet!"
—When in the snow the Mother spied
The print of Lucy's feet.
Then downward from the steep hill's edge
They tracked the footmarks small;
And through the broken hawthorn-hedge,
And by the long stone-wall:
And then an open field they crossed:
The marks were still the same;
They tracked them on, nor ever lost;
And to the Bridge they came.
They followed from the snowy bank
The footmarks, one by one,
Into the middle of the plank;
And further there were none!
