These given, what more need I desire What nobler marvels than the mind A potent wand doth Sorrow wield; If aught on earth have heavenly might, 'Tis lodged within her silent tear. But grant my wishes,-let us now To the stone-table in my garden, Sits blooming like a flower. With these are many more convened; There sits the Vicar and his Dame; And there my good friend, Stephen Otter; And, ere the light of evening fail, To them I must relate the Tale Of Peter Bell the Potter." Off flew my sparkling Boat in scorn, On two poor legs, toward my stone-table "O, here he is!" cried little Bess- "Reproach me not-your fears be stillBe thankful we again have met ;Resume, my Friends! within the shade Your seats, and quickly shall be paid The well-remembered debt." I spake with faltering voice, like one PART FIRST. ALL by the moonlight river side "Hold !" cried the Squire, "against the rules Who Peter was, let that be told, "A Potter*, Sir, he was by trade," Said I, becoming quite collected; "And wheresoever he appeared, Full twenty times was Peter feared For once that Peter was respected. *In the dialect of the North, a hawker of earthenware is thus designated. 1 He, two-and-thirty years or more, Had been a wild and woodland rover ; And he had seen Caernarvon's towers, At Doncaster, at York, and Leeds, And all along the Lowlands fair, All through the bonny shire of Ayr; And he had been at Inverness; And Peter, by the mountain-rills, Had danced his round with Highland lasses; And he had lain beside his asses On lofty Cheviot Hills: And he had trudged through Yorkshire dales, Among the rocks and winding scars; Where deep and low the hamlets lie And all along the indented coast, On headland, or in hollow bay ;- As well might Peter, in the Fleet, Was heart or head the better. He roved among the vales and streams, In vain, through every changeful year, Did Nature lead him as before; A primrose by a river's brim A yellow primrose was to him, Small change it made in Peter's heart |