No More Learning

Again I took thee, and pursued my way
Through woods, and vales, and wildernesses dun:
Till in a little village making stay,
I gave thee secretly in charge to one
Who fondly nursed thee till the circling sun,
With sixteen months of equatorial heat,
Had tinged thy face; till thou too hadst begun
To prattle of thy joys in murmurs sweet,
And print her cottage floor with           feet.