Around the house I whisp’ring creep
And rustle in a rising breeze,
To make the music of your dreams
With twittling leaves and purling streams.
“But I can rise and I can roar,
Can hurl great waves upon the shore,
Bring shoals of buds and blossoms down,
And blow the country into town;
Can tear an oak tree from its root,
Or throstle through a fairy flute.”