large/5160/peterbell_1807_librivox_64kb_mp3/peterbellatale_03_wordsworth_64kb_40
large/5160/peterbell_1807_librivox_64kb_mp3/peterbellatale_03_wordsworth_64kb
English
5160
655 But Peter  when he saw the Ass Not only stop but turn, and change The cherished tenor of his pace That lamentable cry [71] to chase   It wrought in him conviction strange; 660 A faith that, for the dead man's sake And this poor slave who loved him well, Vengeance upon his head will fall, Some visitation worse than all Which ever till this night befel. BUT PETER WHEN HE SAW THE ASS NOT ONLY STOP BUT TURN AND CHANGE THE CHERISHED TENOR OF HIS PACE THAT LAMENTABLE CRY TO CHASE IT WROUGHT IN HIM CONVICTION STRANGE A FAITH THAT FOR THE DEAD MAN'S SAKE AND THIS POOR SLAVE WHO LOVED HIM WELL VENGEANCE UPON HIS HEAD WILL FALL SOME VISITATION WORSE THAN ALL WHICH EVER TILL THIS NIGHT BEFEL
 along the wood, This cry--that floats adown the flood, Comes from the entrance of a cave: 630 I see a blooming Wood-boy there, And if I had the power to say How sorrowful the wanderer is, Your heart would be as sad as his Till you had kissed his tears away! 635 Grasping [67] a hawthorn branch in hand, All bright with berries ripe and red, Into the cavern's mouth he peeps; Thence back into the moonlight creeps; Whom seeks he--whom?--the silent dead: [68] 640 His father!--Him doth he require-- Him hath he sought [69] with fruitless pains, Among the rocks, behind the trees; Now creeping on his hands and knees, Now running o'er the open plains. 645 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 plundered nest Hovering around with dolorous moan! 650 Of that intense and piercing cry The listening Ass conjectures well; [70] Wild as it is, he there can read Some intermingled notes that plead With touches irresistible. Y LITTLE BESS WELL MAY YOU TREMBLE AND LOOK GRAVE THIS CRY THAT RINGS ALONG THE WOOD THIS CRY THAT FLOATS ADOWN THE FLOOD COMES FROM THE ENTRANCE OF A CAVE I SEE A BLOOMING WOOD BOY THERE AND IF I HAD THE POWER TO SAY HOW SORROWFUL THE WANDERER IS YOUR HEART WOULD BE AS SAD AS HIS TILL YOU HAD KISSED HIS TEARS AWAY GRASPING A HAWTHORN BRANCH IN HAND ALL BRIGHT WITH BERRIES RIPE AND RED INTO THE CAVERN'S MOUTH HE PEEPS THENCE BACK INTO THE MOONLIGHT CREEPS WHOM SEEKS HE WHOM THE SILENT DEAD HIS FATHER HIM DOTH HE REQUIRE HIM HATH HE SOUGHT WITH FRUITLESS PAINS AMONG THE ROCKS BEHIND THE TREES NOW CREEPING ON HIS HANDS AND KNEES NOW RUNNING O'ER THE OPEN PLAINS AND HITHER IS HE COME AT LAST WHEN HE THROUGH SUCH A DAY HAS GONE BY THIS DARK CAVE TO BE DISTRESSED LIKE A POOR BIRD HER PLUNDERED NEST HOVERING AROUND WITH DOLOROUS MOAN OF THAT INTENSE AND PIERCING CRY THE LISTENING ASS CONJECTURES WELL WILD AS IT IS HE THERE CAN READ SOME INTERMINGLED NOTES THAT PLEAD WITH TOUCHES IRRESISTIBLE
large/5160/peterbell_1807_librivox_64kb_mp3/peterbellatale_03_wordsworth_64kb
file
download/librilight/large/5160/peterbell_1807_librivox_64kb_mp3/peterbellatale_03_wordsworth_64kb.flac