poems.
107
To freedom's call! he quickly fled
Through paths by forest trees o'erspread,
And, where the swollen streamlet bore
Its icy masses to the shore.
He sped along with glad surprise
At each new scene that met his eyes;
Through many a brake his way did wind,
Till the dark wood was left behind.
Through paths by forest trees o'erspread,
And, where the swollen streamlet bore
Its icy masses to the shore.
He sped along with glad surprise
At each new scene that met his eyes;
Through many a brake his way did wind,
Till the dark wood was left behind.
Then open'd to his eager view
A scene of beauty strange and new,—
A swampy moorland fresh and green
Where many a roving bird was seen,
And many a flower rais'd its head
Above the verdure softly spread;
While trembling streamlets gurgling shone
Where soft the rays of morn were thrown,
And the fair heaven, without a cloud
To dim its brightness or t' enshroud
The new-clad earth, look'd down and smil'd,
And farther stray'd the wandering child.
A scene of beauty strange and new,—
A swampy moorland fresh and green
Where many a roving bird was seen,
And many a flower rais'd its head
Above the verdure softly spread;
While trembling streamlets gurgling shone
Where soft the rays of morn were thrown,
And the fair heaven, without a cloud
To dim its brightness or t' enshroud
The new-clad earth, look'd down and smil'd,
And farther stray'd the wandering child.
A gentle rise, where lovely trees
Were rustling in the morning breeze,
Now stood in all its beauty fair,
And tempted him to wander there;
So from the plain he turned away
Were rustling in the morning breeze,
Now stood in all its beauty fair,
And tempted him to wander there;
So from the plain he turned away
