XLIX
"The roads I paced, I through the fields;
Contentedly, yet sometimes self-accused,
Trusted my life to what chance bounty yields, [65] 435
Now coldly given, now utterly refused.
"The roads I paced, I through the fields;
Contentedly, yet sometimes self-accused,
Trusted my life to what chance bounty yields, [65] 435
Now coldly given, now utterly refused.
Wordsworth - 1
