Page:Poems - Southey (1799) volume 2.djvu/221

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'Tis cutting keen! I smart at every breath,Heaven knows how I shall reach my journey's end,For the way is long before me, and my feet,God help me! sore with travelling. I would gladly,If it pleased God, lie down at once and die.TRAVELLER.Nay nay cheer up! a little food and restWill comfort you; and then your journey's endWill make amends for all. You shake your head,And weep. Is it some evil business thenThat leads you from your home?WOMAN.Sir I am goingTo see my son at Plymouth, sadly hurtIn the late action, and in the hospitalDying, I fear me, now.TRAVELLER.Perhaps your fearsMake evil worse. Even if a limb be lostThere may be still enough for comfort left.
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