Page:Poems - Southey (1799) volume 2.djvu/220

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ECLOGUE IV.

THE SAILOR'S MOTHER.

WOMAN.Sir for the love of God some small reliefTo a poor woman!TRAVELLER.Whither are you bound?'Tis a late hour to travel o'er these downs,No house for miles around us, and the wayDreary and wild. The evening wind alreadyMakes one's teeth chatter, and the very Sun,Setting so pale behind those thin white clouds,Looks cold. 'Twill be a bitter night!WOMAN.Aye Sir
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