While flutter’d the flock from the clustering grain.
He knew the lone spots of the forest and glen,
The rook of the crow, and the nest of the wren,
And hied as a forager there for his prey,
But left the wood-tenants unharm’d in their play.
By hedge-row, and brushwood, and briar, and brake,
To the pebble-shor’d brook, and the wild-wooded lake,
He rov’d, while the pathway was leafy and green,
Where bow’d the old oaks o’er the silvery scene.
And there by the brookside, when tir’d of play,