"No, I don't," said Diamond, and began to sing to Dulcimer.
All I could hear of the song, for the other children were going on
with their chatter, was--

The clock struck one,
And the mouse came down.
Dickery, dickery, dock!

Then there came a blast of wind, and the rain followed in
straight-pouring lines, as if out of a watering-pot. Diamond
jumped up with his little Dulcimer in his arms, and Nanny
caught up the little boy, and they ran for the cottage.
Jim vanished with a double shuffle, and I went into the house.

When I came out again to return home, the clouds were gone,
and the evening sky glimmered through the trees, blue, and pale-green
towards the west, I turned my steps a little aside to look at the
stricken beech. I saw the bough torn from the stem, and that was
all the twilight would allow me to see. While I stood gazing,
down from the sky came a sound of singing, but the voice was
neither of lark nor of nightingale: it was sweeter than either:
it was the voice of Diamond, up in his airy nest:--

The lightning and thunder,
They go and they come;
But the stars and the stillness
Are always at home.

And then the voice ceased.