Two voices are there: one is of the deep; br It learns the storm-cloud's thunderous melody, br Now roars, now murmurs with the changing sea, br Now bird-like pipes, now closes soft in sleep: br And one is of an old half-witted sheep br Which bleats articulate monotony, br And indicates that two and one are three, br That grass is green, lakes damp, and mountains steep: br And, Wordsworth, both are thine: at certain times br Forth from the heart of thy melodious rhymes, br The form and pressure of high thoughts will burst: br At other times -- good Lord! I'd rather be br Quite unacquainted with the A.B.C. br Than write such hopeless rubbish as thy worst.