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The magpie chatters with delight;
Beneath a rock, upon the grass,
On pipes of fycamore they play
Their rufty hats they trim :
Along the river's stony marge The fand-lark chants a joyous fong; The thrush is bufy in the wood, And carols loud and strong.
A thousand lambs are on the rocks,
Those boys with their green coronal;
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 criesJames ftopped with no good will: Said Walter then, "Your task is here, 'Twill keep you working half a year.
"Now cross where I fhall cross-come on,
And follow me where I shall lead."
The other took him at his word,
But did not like the deed.
It was a spot which you may fee
Into a chasm a mighty block
Hath fallen, and made a bridge of rock:
And in a bafin black and small
With ftaff in hand, across the cleft
When lift! he hears a piteous moan—
And looking down, he fpies
A lamb, that in the pool is pent
The lamb had flipped into the fstream,
His dam had seen 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.