No More Learning

That's like . . . 1798. ]


[Variant 7:

1827.

But if you'd . . . 1798. ]


[Variant 8:

1827.

The heap that's like . . . 1798. ]


[Variant 9: In the editions 1798 to 1815.
Nay rack your brain--'tis all in vain,
I'll tell you every thing I know;
But to the thorn, and to the pond
Which is a little step beyond,
I wish that you would go:
Perhaps when you are at the place
You something of her tale may trace.


XI I'll give you the best help I can:
Before you up the mountain go,
Up to the dreary mountain-top,
I'll tell you all I know. ]


[Variant 10:

1845.

'Tis now some two and twenty years, 1798.

'Tis known, that twenty years are passed 1820. ]


[Variant 11:

1820.

And she was happy, happy still
Whene'er she thought of Stephen Hill. 1798. ]


[Variant 12:

1815.

. . . on that woful day
A cruel, cruel fire, they say,
Into her bones was sent:
It dried her body like a cinder,
And almost turn'd her brain to tinder. 1798. ]


[Variant 13:

1836.

'Tis said, a child was in her womb,
As now to any eye was plain; 1798.