"How the light shines up every bough! "How strange the leaves appear! "Hark!--What was that?--'tis silent now, "Come, Mary, never fear." The staring oxen breathed aloud, But never dream'd of harm; A meteor glanced along the cloud That hung o'er Wood-Hill Farm. Old Caesar bark'd and howl'd hard by, All else was still as death, But Caleb was ashamed to cry, And Mary held her breath. At length they spied a distant light, And heard a chorus brawl; Wherever drunkards stopp'd at night, Why there was Andrew Hall. The house was full, the landlord gay, The bar-maid shook her head, And wish'd the boobies far away That kept her out of bed. There Caleb enter'd, firm, but mild, And spoke in plaintive tone:-- "My mother could not leave the child, "So we are come alone." E'en drunken Andrew felt the blow That innocence can give, When its resistless accents flow To bid affection live. "I'm coming, loves, I'm coming now,"-- Then, shuffling o'er the floor, Contrived to make his balance true, And led them from the door. The plain broad path that brought him there By day, though faultless then, Was up and down and narrow grown, Though wide enough for ten. The stiles were wretchedly contrived, The stars were all at play, And many a ditch had moved itself Exactly in his way. But still conceit was uppermost, That stupid kind of pride:-- "Dost think I cannot see a post? "Dost think I want a guide? "Why, Mary, how you twist and twirl! "Why dost not keep the track? "I'll carry thee home safe, my girl,"-- Then swung her on his back. Poor Caleb muster'd all his wits To bear the light ahead, As Andrew reel'd and stopp'd by fits, Or ran with thund'ring tread. Exult, ye brutes, traduced and scorn'd, Though true to nature's plan; Exult, ye bristled, and ye horn'd, When infants govern man. Down to the mill-pool's dangerous brink The headlong party drove; The boy alone had power to think, While Mary scream'd above. "Stop!" Caleb cried, "you've lost the path; "The water's close before; "I see it shine, 'tis very deep,-- "Why, don't you hear it roar?" And then in agony exclaim'd, "O where's my mother _now_?" The Solomon of hops and malt Stopp'd short and made a bow: His head was loose, his neck disjointed, It cost him little trouble; But, to be stopp'd and disappointed, Poh! danger was a bubble. Onward be stepp'd, the boy alert, Calling his courage forth, Hung like a log on Andrew's skirt, And down he brought them both. The tumbling lantern reach'd the stream, Its hissing light soon gone; 'Twas night, without a single gleam, And terror reign'd alone. A general scream the miller heard, Then rubb'd his eyes and ran, And soon his welcome light appear'd, As grumbling he began:-- "What have we here, and whereabouts? "Why what a hideous squall! "Some drunken fool! I thought as much-- "'Tis only Andrew Hall!