FABLES OF FLORA. 141 
She heard within the forest 
The fox’s dismal howl, 
And the hoarse ‘ tu whit! tu whoo n 
Of the melancholy owl. 
‘ I’m lost! ’ cried little Ellen, 
In a tone of sudden fear; 
‘ This path is not the path I came — 
How wild it is, and drear! 
‘ What shall I do ? ’T is sunset— 
The woods shut out the sky — 
I cannot tell the east or west, 
Or where the mountains lie! ’ 
Then, on the damp grass sinking, 
Poor Ellen wildly wept; 
While o’er her, heedless of her fears, 
The whistling breezes swept. 
A low voice softly whispered, 
‘ Although thy way be dim, 
Yet God is ever in thy path, 
And thou shouldst trust in him! ’ 
Her own words thus repeated, 
The little maiden heard; 
Whence came they ? — from the angels, 
Or from some singing bird? 
