Ran with a dull, unvaried, sadd’ning sound;
Where all, presented to the eye or ear,
Oppresss’d the soul with misery, grief, and fear.
Besides these objects, there were places three,
Which Peter seem’d with certain dread to see;
When he drew near them he would turn from each,
And loudly whistle till he pass’d the reach.
A change of scene to him brought no relief,
In town, ’twas plain, men took him for a thief:
The sailor’s wives would stop him in the street,