He met a forester as bold;
O’er the fierce conflict frown’d the wood,
And drank with thirsty roots his blood.
Yon bank demands a pitying look,
Where life a gentler breast forsook;[[20]]
Sole comfort of an aged pair!
The true-love of a damsel fair!—
At prime of dawn he stepp’d away;
Long was the journey, short the day;
The wint’ry blast blew loud and chill;