The magpie chatters with delight; Beneath a rock, upon the grass, On pipes of fycamore they play And thus, as happy as the day, Along the river's stony marge A thousand lambs are on the rocks, G Those boys with their green coronal; That plaintive cry! which up the hill Said Walter, leaping from the ground, "Down to the ftump of yon old yew We'll for our whiftles run a race." -Away the fhepherds flew. They leapt they ran-and when they came Right oppofite to Dungeon-Ghyll, Seeing that he should lose the prize, "Stop!" to his comrade Walter cries James stopped with no good will: "Twill keep you working half a year. "Now cross where I fhall cross-come on, And follow me where I fhall lead.". The other took him at his word, But did not like the deed. It was a spot which you may fee The gulf is deep below; And in a bafin black and small Receives a lofty waterfall. With ftaff in hand, across the cleft When lift! he hears a piteous moan— A lamb, that in the pool is pent The lamb had flipped into the ftream, His dam had feen him when he fell, And, while with all a mother's love She from the lofty rocks above Sent forth a cry forlorn, The lamb, still swimming round and round, Made answer to that plaintive found. |