On this side , heralded by a blast of clarions and bugles , appears a train of wagons conveying all the wild beasts of a caravan ; and on that a company of summer soldiers marching from village to village on a festival campaign , attended by the `` brass band . '' Now look at the scene , and it presents an emblem of the mysterious confusion , the apparently insolvable riddle , in which individuals , or the great world itself , seem often to be involved . What miracle shall set all things right again ? But see ! the schooner has thrust her bulky carcase through the chasm ; the draw descends ; horse and foot pass onward and leave the bridge vacant from end to end . `` And thus , '' muses the toll-gatherer , `` have I found it with all stoppages , even though the universe seemed to be at a stand . '' The sage old man ! Far westward now the reddening sun throws a broad sheet of splendor across the flood , and to the eyes of distant boatmen gleams brightly among the timbers of the bridge . Strollers come from the town to quaff the freshening breeze . One or two let down long lines and haul up flapping flounders or cunners or small cod , or perhaps an eel . Others , and fair girls among them , with the flush of the hot day still on their cheeks , bend over the railing and watch the heaps of seaweed floating upward with the flowing tide . The horses now tramp heavily along the bridge and wistfully bethink them of their stables . -- Rest , rest , thou weary world ! for to-morrow 's round of toil and pleasure will be as wearisome as to-day 's has been , yet both shall bear thee onward a day 's march of eternity . -- Now the old toll-gatherer looks seaward and discerns the lighthouse kindling on a far island , and the stars , too , kindling in the sky , as if but a little way beyond ; and , mingling reveries of heaven with remembrances of earth , the whole procession of mortal travellers , all the dusty pilgrimage which he has witnessed , seems like a flitting show of phantoms for his thoughtful soul to muse upon . THE VISION OF THE FOUNTAIN . At fifteen I became a resident in a country village more than a hundred miles from home . The morning after my arrival -- a September morning , but warm and bright as any in July -- I rambled into a wood of oaks with a few walnut trees intermixed , forming the closest shade above my head . The ground was rocky , uneven , overgrown with bushes and clumps of young saplings and traversed only by cattle-paths . The track which I chanced to follow led me to a crystal spring with a border of grass as freshly green as on May morning , and overshadowed by the limb of a great oak .
One solitary sunbeam found its way down and played like a goldfish XXXXX the water .
after along among as by in of over through to