Ernest, the Pilgrim

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Excerpt from Ernest, the Pilgrim: A Dramatic Poem Up the broad lane where the bramble blows Hearty and happy the herdsman goes, - Leading his flock with a quaintly lay Echoed in many a pleasant way, Gadding gossiping Weather-so-wise Opens her window and rubs her eyes, Looks for her signs so odd and olden, - "O but the mornings bright and golden, " Daws circle over the castle walls, The guardians of its silent halls, Wildly as an unmeasured theme, Dashes and foams the forest stream, And ripples along the bosky glade, Silverly leaping the old cascade, The milkmaid calls her lowing cows Under the nodding beechen bows, And as she merrily fills her pail, Young Roger comes whistling down the vale, Lifts her sweet burthen over the stile, Squeezing her willing hand the while, The smoke from many a croft up-curls Into the deep empyrean worlds, Stretched like old Titans at their ease Lie solitudes of hoary trees, Whose mysteries haunt our childish dreams, While throned in great Hyperion's beams, - Mountains in glorious grandeur rife, The monarchs of all centuries, About the Publisher Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully, any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.