The boy that drove the teeming cow.
And sung or whistled in his cheer;
The dog that by his master's side,
Made the lone copse with echoes ring:
The mill that whirling in the tide,
Seemed with a droning voice to sing;
The lowing herd, the bleating flock,
And many a far-off murmuring wheel:
Each sent its music up the rock,
And woke my bosom's echoing peal.