"At Doncaster, at York, and Leeds, And merry Carlisle had he been; And all along the Lowlands fair, All through the bonny shire of Ayr; And far as Aberdeen. 220 "And he had been at Inverness; And Peter, by the mountain-rills, Had danced his round with Highland lasses; And he had lain beside his asses On lofty Cheviot Hills: 225 "And he had trudged through Yorkshire dales, Among the rocks and winding _scars_; Where deep and low the hamlets lie Beneath their little patch of sky And little lot of stars: 230 "And all along the indented coast, Bespattered with the salt-sea foam; Where'er a knot of houses lay On headland, or in hollow bay;-- Sure never man like him did roam! 235 "As well might Peter, in the Fleet, Have been fast bound, a begging debtor;-- He travelled here, he travelled there;-- But not the value of a hair Was heart or head the better. 240 "He roved among the vales and streams, In the green wood and hollow dell; They were his dwellings night and day,-- But nature ne'er could find the way Into the heart of Peter Bell. 245 "In vain, through every changeful year, Did Nature lead him as before; A primrose by a river's brim A yellow primrose was to him, And it was nothing more. 250 "Small change it made in Peter's heart To see his gentle panniered train With more than vernal pleasure feeding, Where'er the tender grass was leading Its earliest green along the lane. 255 "In vain, through water, earth, and air, The soul of happy sound was spread, When Peter on some April morn, Beneath the broom or budding thorn, Made the warm earth his lazy bed. 260 "At noon, when, by the forest's edge He lay beneath the branches high, The soft blue sky did never melt Into his heart; he never felt The witchery of the soft blue sky! 265 "On a fair prospect some have looked And felt, as I have heard them say, As if the moving time had been A thing as steadfast as the scene On which they gazed themselves away. 270 "Within the breast of Peter Bell These silent raptures found no place; [24] He was a Carl as wild and rude As ever hue-and-cry pursued, As ever ran a felon's race. 275 "Of all that lead a lawless life, Of all that love their lawless lives, In city or in village small, He was the wildest far of all;-- He had a dozen wedded wives. 280 "Nay, start not!--wedded wives--and twelve! But how one wife could e'er come near him, In simple truth I cannot tell; For, be it said of Peter Bell, To see him was to fear him. 285