"She bore to the reapers at noontide, flagons of home-brewed ale "Till he beheld the lights in the seven houses of Plymouth" "In the Valley of the Vire Still is seen an ancient mill" "Come to me, O ye children" 198 218 224 “O little feet! that such long years Must wander on "Like an old patriarch he appeared” "Alas! dear lady, there can be no task So sweet to me 240 |