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Right opposite to Dungeon-Gill, Seeing, that he should lose the prize, “ Stop!” to his comrade Walter cries-James stopp'd with no good will : Said Walter then, “ Your task is here, 'Twill keep you working half a year.
Till you have cross'd where I shall cross,
With staff in hand across the cleft
eyes and feet, hath gain'd The middle of the arch. When list! he hears a piteous moanAgain! his heart within him diesHis pulse is stopp'd, his breath is lost, He totters, pale as any ghost, And, looking down, he spies A Lamb, that in the pool is pent Within that black and frightful rent.
The Lamb had slipp'd into the stream,
She saw him down the torrent borne ;
She from the lofty rocks above
When he had learnt, what thing it was,
steep ascent they hied
'Tis said, that some have died for love :
have known; He dwells alone Upon Helvellyn's side. He loved-The pretty Barbara died, And thus he makes his moan : Three
years had Barbara in her grave been laid When thus his moan he made.