Page:Poems by William Wordsworth (1815) Volume 2.djvu/54

46 And some had sworn an oath that she

Should be to public justice brought;

And for the little infant's bones

With spades they would have sought.

But then the beauteous Hill of moss

Before their eyes began to stir;

And for full fifty yards around,

The grass,—it shook upon the ground;

But all do still aver

The little Babe is buried there,

Beneath that Hill of moss so fair.

I cannot tell how this may be:

But plain it is, the Thorn is bound

With heavy tufts of moss, that strive

To drag it to the ground;

And this I know, full many a time,

When she was on the mountain high,

By day, and in the silent night,

When all the stars shone clear and bright,

That I have heard her cry,

"Oh misery! oh misery!

Oh woe is me! oh misery!"