Page:Poems - Tennyson (1843) - Volume 2 of 2.djvu/90

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78
THE TALKING OAK.

lvi.

"A third would glimmer on her neck

To make the necklace shine;
Another slid, a sunny fleck,
From head to ancle fine,

lvii.

"Then close and dark my arms I spread,

And shadow'd all her rest—
Dropt dews upon her golden head,
An acorn in her breast.

lviii.

"But in a pet she started up,

And pluck'd it out, and drew
My little oakling from the cup,
And flung him in the dew.

lix.

"And yet it was a graceful gift—

I felt a pang within
As when I see the woodman lift
His axe to slay my kin.