Page:Lyrical ballads, Volume 1, Wordsworth, 1800.djvu/227

175 O happy living things! no tongue

Their beauty might declare:

A spring of love gusht from my heart,

And I bless'd them unaware!

Sure my kind saint took pity on me,

And I bless'd them unaware.

The self-same moment I could pray;

And from my neck so free

The Albatross fell off, and sank

Like lead into the sea.