Verse > William Wordsworth > Complete Poetical Works
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"A WHIRL-BLAST FROM BEHIND THE HILL"

          A WHIRL-BLAST from behind the hill
          Rushed o'er the wood with startling sound;
          Then--all at once the air was still,
          And showers of hailstones pattered round.
          Where leafless oaks towered high above,
          I sat within an undergrove
          Of tallest hollies, tall and green;
          A fairer bower was never seen.
          From year to year the spacious floor
          With withered leaves is covered o'er,                       10
          And all the year the bower is green.
          But see! where'er the hailstones drop
          The withered leaves all skip and hop;
          There's not a breeze--no breath of air--
          Yet here, and there, and everywhere
          Along the floor, beneath the shade
          By those embowering hollies made,
          The leaves in myriads jump and spring,
          As if with pipes and music rare
          Some Robin Good-fellow were there,                          20
          And all those leaves, in festive glee,
          Were dancing to the minstrelsy.
                                                              1799.


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