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12
PETER BELL.
Prologue.
To the stone-table in my garden,
Lov'd haunt of many a summer hour,
The Squire is come;—his daughter Bess
Beside him in the cool recess
Sits blooming like a flower.
With these are many more convened;
They know not I have been so far—
I see them there in number nine
Beneath the spreading Weymouth pine—
I see them—there they are!
There sits the Vicar, and his Dame;
And there my good friend, Stephen Otter;
And, ere the light of evening fail,
To them I must relate the Tale
Of Peter Bell the Potter."
