The father’s arms oft bore the lovely weight,
Or on the palfrey’s back the weariest sate.
XI.
And thus they past o’er many a rapid flow,
Climbed many a hill—through many a valley wound,
While wary Waban moved before them slow,
And for their feet the smoothest pathway found;
River and fen and miry waste and low,
The floods had swollen to their utmost bound;