Chapter 10 VITAS HINNULEO

DONE BY MR. WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

I met a little Roman maid;

She was just sixteen (she said),

And O! but she was sore afraid,

And hung her modest head.

A little fawn, you would have vowed,

That sought her mother's side,

And wandered lonely as a cloud

Upon the mountain wide.

Whene'er the little lizards stirred

She started in her fear;

In every rustling bush she heard

Some awful monster near.

"I'm not a lion; fear not so;

Seek not your timid dam."-

But Chloe was afraid, and O!

She knows not what I am:

A creature quite too bright and good

To be so much misunderstood.