Page:Enoch Arden, etc - Tennyson - 1864.djvu/37

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ENOCH ARDEN.
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For Father Philip (as they call’d him) too:Him, like the working bee in blossom-dust,Blanch’d with his mill, they found; and saying to him‘Come with us Father Philip’ he denied;But when the children pluck’d at him to go,He laugh’d, and yielded readily to their wish,For was not Annie with them? and they went.
 But after scaling half the weary down,Just where the prone edge of the wood beganTo feather toward the hollow, all her forceFail’d her; and sighing, ‘let me rest’ she said:So Philip rested with her well-content;While all the younger ones with jubilant criesBroke from their elders, and tumultuouslyDown thro’ the whitening hazels made a plungeTo the bottom, and dispersed, and bent or brokeThe lithe reluctant boughs to tear awayTheir tawny clusters, crying to each otherAnd calling, here and there, about the wood.
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