As he hath told to me, his tale,
In words like these,—while o'er the dell,
The autumn twilight wove its veil.
III.
"Stranger! these woods are wild and drear;
These tangled paths are rough and lone;
These dells are full of things of fear,
And should be rather shunned than known.
Then turn thy truant foot away,
And seek afar the cultured glade,