To Bulmer’s Tree, the giant oak,
Whose boughs the keeper’s cottage hide,
And part the church-way lane o’erlook;
A boy, I climb’d the topmost bough, 170
And I would feel its shadow now!
“Or, lassie, lead me to the west,
Where grew the elm-trees thick and tall,
Where rooks unnumber’d build their nest—
Deliberate birds, and prudent all:
Their notes, indeed, are harsh and rude,