Collected Poems 1901-1918 in Two Volumes - Volume II. | Page 2

of stone;

In the dusk he sat a-smiling,
Smiling there alone.
He read no book, he snuffed no candle;
The rats ran in, the rats ran
out;
And far and near, the drip of water
Went whispering about.
The dusk was still, with dew a-falling,
I saw the Dog Star bleak and
grim,
I saw a slim brown rat of Norway
Creep over him.
I spied John Mouldy in his cellar,
Deep down twenty steps of stone;

In the dusk he sat a-smiling,
Smiling there alone.
THE FLY
How large unto the tiny fly
Must little things appear!--
A rosebud
like a feather bed,
Its prickle like a spear;
A dewdrop like a looking-glass,
A hair like golden wire;
The
smallest grain of mustard-seed
As fierce as coals of fire;
A loaf of bread, a lofty hill;
A wasp, a cruel leopard;
And specks of
salt as bright to see
As lambkins to a shepherd.
SONG
O for a moon to light me home!
O for a lanthorn green!
For those
sweet stars the Pleiades,
That glitter in the darkling trees;
O for a

lovelorn taper! O
For a lanthorn green!
O for a frock of tartan!
O for clear, wild grey eyes!
For fingers light
as violets,
'Neath branches that the blackbird frets;
O for a thistly
meadow! O
For clear, wild grey eyes!
O for a heart like almond boughs!
O for sweet thoughts like rain!
O
for first-love like fields of grey
Shut April-buds at break of day!
O
for a sleep like music!
Dreams still as rain!
I SAW THREE WITCHES
I saw three witches
That bowed down like barley,
And straddled
their brooms 'neath a louring sky,
And, mounting a storm-cloud,
Aloft on its margin,
Stood black in
the silver as up they did fly.
I saw three witches
That mocked the poor sparrows
They carried in
cages of wicker along,
Till a hawk from his eyrie
Swooped down like an arrow,
Smote on
the cages, and ended their song.
I saw three witches
That sailed in a shallop,
All turning their heads
with a snickering smile,
Till a bank of green osiers
Concealed their grim faces,
Though I
heard them lamenting for many a mile.
I saw three witches
Asleep in a valley,
Their heads in a row, like
stones in a flood,
Till the moon, creeping upward,
Looked white through the valley,

And turned them to bushes in bright scarlet bud.
THE SILVER PENNY

"Sailorman, I'll give to you
My bright silver penny,
If out to sea
you'll sail me
And my dear sister Jenny."
"Get in, young sir, I'll sail ye
And your dear sister Jenny,
But pay
she shall her golden locks
Instead of your penny."
They sail away, they sail away,
O fierce the winds blew!
The foam
flew in clouds,
And dark the night grew!
And all the wild sea-water
Climbed steep into the boat;
Back to the
shore again
Sail they will not.
Drowned is the sailorman,
Drowned is sweet Jenny,
And drowned
in the deep sea
A bright silver penny.
THE RAINBOW
I saw the lovely arch
Of Rainbow span the sky,
The gold sun
burning
As the rain swept by.
In bright-ringed solitude
The showery foliage shone
One lovely
moment,
And the Bow was gone.
THE FAIRIES DANCING
I heard along the early hills,
Ere yet the lark was risen up,
Ere yet
the dawn with firelight fills
The night-dew of the bramble-cup,--
I
heard the fairies in a ring
Sing as they tripped a lilting round
Soft as
the moon on wavering wing.
The starlight shook as if with sound,

As if with echoing, and the stars
Prankt their bright eyes with
trembling gleams;
While red with war the gusty Mars
Rained upon
earth his ruddy beams.
He shone alone, low down the West,
While I,
behind a hawthorn-bush,
Watched on the fairies flaxen-tressed
The
fires of the morning flush.
Till, as a mist, their beauty died,

Their
singing shrill and fainter grew;
And daylight tremulous and wide


Flooded the moorland through and through;
Till Urdon's copper
weathercock
Was reared in golden flame afar,
And dim from
moonlit dreams awoke
The towers and groves of Arroar.
REVERIE
When slim Sophia mounts her horse
And paces down the avenue,
It
seems an inward melody
She paces to.
Each narrow hoof is lifted high
Beneath the dark enclustering pines,

A silver ray within his bit
And bridle shines.
His eye burns deep, his tail is arched,
And streams upon the shadowy
air,
The daylight sleeks his jetty flanks,
His mistress' hair.
Her habit flows in darkness down,
Upon the stirrup rests her foot,

Her brow is lifted, as if earth
She heeded not.
'Tis silent in the avenue,
The sombre pines are mute of song,
The
blue is dark, there moves no breeze
The boughs among.
When slim Sophia mounts her horse
And paces down the avenue,
It
seems an inward melody
She paces to.
THE THREE BEGGARS

'Twas autumn daybreak gold and wild,
While past St. Ann's grey
tower they shuffled,
Three beggars spied a fairy-child
In crimson mantle muffled.
The daybreak lighted up her face
All pink, and sharp, and
emerald-eyed;
She looked on them a little space,
And shrill as hautboy cried:--
"O three tall footsore men of rags
Which walking this gold morn I see,

What will ye give me from your bags
For fairy kisses three?"
The first, that was a reddish man,
Out of