Page:Lyrical ballads, Volume 2, Wordsworth, 1800.djvu/71

63 Her voice was blithe, her heart was light;

The Broom might have pursued

Her speech, until the stars of night

Their journey had renew'd.

But in the branches of the Oak

Two Ravens now began to croak

Their nuptial song, a gladsome air;

And to her own green bower the breeze

That instant brought two stripling Bees

To feed and murmur there.

One night the Wind came from the North

And blew a furious blast,

At break of day I ventur'd forth

And near the Cliff I pass'd.

The storm had fall'n upon the Oak

And struck him with a mighty stroke,

And whirl'd and whirl'd him far away;

And in one hospitable Cleft

The little careless Broom was left

To live for many a day.