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

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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.