Then, when the Hero of my tale
  Was passing by, and, down the vale
  (The vale now silent, hushed I ween
  As if a storm had never been) 290
  Proceeding with a mind at ease;
  While the old Familiar of the seas [35]
  Intent to use his utmost haste,
  Gained ground upon the Waggon fast,
  And gives another lusty cheer; 295
  For spite of rumbling of the wheels,
  A welcome greeting he can hear;—­
  It is a fiddle in its glee
  Dinning from the CHERRY TREE!

  Thence the sound—­the light is there—­300
  As Benjamin is now aware,
  Who, to his inward thoughts confined,
  Had almost reached the festive door,
  When, startled by the Sailor’s roar, [36]
  He hears a sound and sees the light, 305
  And in a moment calls to mind
  That ’tis the village MERRY-NIGHT! [F]

  Although before in no dejection,
  At this insidious recollection
  His heart with sudden joy is filled,—­310
  His ears are by the music thrilled,
  His eyes take pleasure in the road
  Glittering before him bright and broad;
  And Benjamin is wet and cold,
  And there are reasons manifold 315
  That make the good, tow’rds which he’s yearning,
  Look fairly like a lawful earning.

    Nor has thought time to come and go,
  To vibrate between yes and no;
  For, cries the Sailor, “Glorious chance 320
  That blew us hither!—­let him dance,
  Who can or will!—­my honest soul,
  Our treat shall be a friendly bowl!” [37]
  He draws him to the door—­“Come in,
  Come, come,” cries he to Benjamin! 325
  And Benjamin—­ah, woe is me! 
  Gave the word—­the horses heard
  And halted, though reluctantly.

    “Blithe souls and lightsome hearts have we,
  Feasting at the CHERRY TREE!” 330
  This was the outside proclamation,
  This was the inside salutation;
  What bustling—­jostling—­high and low! 
  A universal overflow! 
  What tankards foaming from the tap! 335
  What store of cakes in every lap! 
  What thumping—­stumping—­overhead! 
  The thunder had not been more busy: 
  With such a stir you would have said,
  This little place may well be dizzy! 340
  ’Tis who can dance with greatest vigour—­
  ’Tis what can be most prompt and eager;
  As if it heard the fiddle’s call,
  The pewter clatters on the wall;
  The very bacon shows its feeling, 345
  Swinging from the smoky ceiling!