Page:Poems - Tennyson (1843) - Volume 2 of 2.djvu/84



A light wind chased her on the wing, And in the chase grew wild, As close as might be would he cling About the darling child:

But light as any wind that blows So fleetly did she stir, The flower she touch'd on, dipt and rose, And turn'd to look at her.

And here she came, and round me play'd, And sang to me the whole Of those three stanzas that you made About my 'giant bole;'

And in a fit of frolic mirth She strove to span my waist: Alas, I was so broad of girth, I could not be embraced.