Yet he no wrath, no angry wish express'd,
But tried, in vain, to labour or to rest;
Then cast his bundle on his back, and went
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He knew not whither, nor for what intent.
Years fled;—of Robin all remembrance past,
When home he wander'd in his rags at last.
A sailor's jacket on his limbs was thrown,
A sailor's story he had made his own;
Had suffer'd battles, prisons, tempests, storms,