The path grows dim, and dimmer still; Now up, now down, the Rover wends, With all the sail that he can carry, Till brought to a deserted quarry--[27] And there the pathway ends. 355 [28] He paused--for shadows of strange shape, Massy and black, before him lay; But through the dark, and through the cold, [29] And through the yawning fissures old, Did Peter boldly press his way 360 Right through the quarry;--and behold A scene of soft and lovely hue! Where blue and grey, and tender green, Together make [30] as sweet a scene As ever human eye did view. 365 Beneath the clear blue sky he saw A little field of meadow ground; But field or meadow name it not; Call it of earth a small green plot, With rocks encompassed round. 370 The Swale flowed under the grey rocks, But he flowed quiet and unseen;-- You need a strong and stormy gale To bring the noises of the Swale To that green spot, so calm and green! 375 [31] And is there no one dwelling here, No hermit with his beads and glass? And does no little cottage look Upon this soft and fertile nook? Does no one live near this green grass? 380 Across the [32] deep and quiet spot Is Peter driving through the grass-- And now has reached the skirting trees; [33] When, turning round his head, he sees A solitary Ass. 385 [34] "A prize!" cries Peter--but he first Must spy about him far and near: [35] There's not a single house in sight, No woodman's hut, no cottage light-- Peter, you need not fear! 390 There's nothing to be seen but woods, And rocks that spread a hoary gleam, And this one Beast, that from the bed Of the green meadow hangs his head Over the silent stream. 395 His head is with a halter bound; The halter seizing, Peter leapt Upon the Creature's back, [36] and plied With ready heels his shaggy side; [37] But still the Ass his station kept. 400 [38] Then Peter gave a sudden jerk, A jerk that from a dungeon-floor Would have pulled up an iron ring; But still the heavy-headed Thing Stood just as he had stood before! 405 Quoth Peter, leaping from his seat, "There is some plot against me laid"; Once more the little meadow-ground And all the hoary cliffs around He cautiously surveyed. 410 All, all is silent--rocks and woods, All still and silent--far and near! Only the Ass, with motion dull, Upon the pivot of his skull Turns round his long left ear. 415