"We'll soon be there," the hero said,
"Come on, 'tis but a mile,--
"Here's where the cricket-match was play'd,
"And here's the shady stile.

"How the light shines up every bough!
"How strange the leaves appear!
"Hark!--What was that?--'tis silent now,
"Come, Mary, never fear."

The staring oxen breathed aloud,
But never dream'd of harm;
A meteor glanced along the cloud
That hung o'er Wood-Hill Farm.

Old Caesar bark'd and howl'd hard by,
All else was still as death,
But Caleb was ashamed to cry,
And Mary held her breath.

At length they spied a distant light,
And heard a chorus brawl;
Wherever drunkards stopp'd at night,
Why there was Andrew Hall.

The house was full, the landlord gay,
The bar-maid shook her head,
And wish'd the boobies far away
That kept her out of bed.