160.
160.
His heart was sad, and his foot was sore,When a stranger knocked at the cottager’s door;With travel faint, as the night fell down,He had missed his way to the nearest town,And he prayed for water to quench his thirst,And he showed his purse as he asked for myfirst.The cotter was moved by the stranger’s tale,He spread the board, and he poured the ale:“The river,” he said, “flows darkly downBetwixt your path and the lighted town,And far from hence its stream is crossedBy the bridge on the road that you have lost;Gold may not buy, till your weary feetHave traversed the river and reached the street,The thing you ask; but the wandering moonWill be out in the sky with her lantern soon;Then cross o’er the meadow, and look to the right,And you’ll find mysecondby her light.”Mysecondshone like a silver floor,When the traveler passed from the cotter’s door;He saw the town on its distant ridge,Yet he sighed no more for the far-off bridge;And his wish of the night soon gained its goal,For he found myfirstwhen he reached my whole.
His heart was sad, and his foot was sore,When a stranger knocked at the cottager’s door;With travel faint, as the night fell down,He had missed his way to the nearest town,And he prayed for water to quench his thirst,And he showed his purse as he asked for myfirst.The cotter was moved by the stranger’s tale,He spread the board, and he poured the ale:“The river,” he said, “flows darkly downBetwixt your path and the lighted town,And far from hence its stream is crossedBy the bridge on the road that you have lost;Gold may not buy, till your weary feetHave traversed the river and reached the street,The thing you ask; but the wandering moonWill be out in the sky with her lantern soon;Then cross o’er the meadow, and look to the right,And you’ll find mysecondby her light.”Mysecondshone like a silver floor,When the traveler passed from the cotter’s door;He saw the town on its distant ridge,Yet he sighed no more for the far-off bridge;And his wish of the night soon gained its goal,For he found myfirstwhen he reached my whole.
His heart was sad, and his foot was sore,
When a stranger knocked at the cottager’s door;
With travel faint, as the night fell down,
He had missed his way to the nearest town,
And he prayed for water to quench his thirst,
And he showed his purse as he asked for myfirst.
The cotter was moved by the stranger’s tale,
He spread the board, and he poured the ale:
“The river,” he said, “flows darkly down
Betwixt your path and the lighted town,
And far from hence its stream is crossed
By the bridge on the road that you have lost;
Gold may not buy, till your weary feet
Have traversed the river and reached the street,
The thing you ask; but the wandering moon
Will be out in the sky with her lantern soon;
Then cross o’er the meadow, and look to the right,
And you’ll find mysecondby her light.”
Mysecondshone like a silver floor,
When the traveler passed from the cotter’s door;
He saw the town on its distant ridge,
Yet he sighed no more for the far-off bridge;
And his wish of the night soon gained its goal,
For he found myfirstwhen he reached my whole.
161. What two letters of the alphabet make a prophet?
163. Plant an orchard of twenty-one trees, so that there shall be nine straight rows, with five trees in each row, theoutlinea regular geometrical figure, and the trees all at unequal distances from each other.