About the crazy old church-clock
And the bewilder'd chimes.






NUTTING.


--It seems a day,
One of those heavenly days which cannot die,
When forth I sallied from our cottage-door, [1]
And with a wallet o'er my shoulder slung,
A nutting crook in hand, I turn'd my steps
Towards the distant woods, a Figure quaint,
Trick'd out in proud disguise of Beggar's weeds
Put on for the occasion, by advice
And exhortation of my frugal Dame.

[Footnote 1: The house at which I was boarded during the time
I was at School.]

Motley accoutrements! of power to smile
At thorns, and brakes, and brambles, and, in truth,
More ragged than need was. Among the woods,
And o'er the pathless rocks, I forc'd my way
Until, at length, I came to one dear nook
Unvisited, where not a broken bough