Collected Poems 1901-1918 in Two Volumes - Volume II. | Page 3

his bundle takes a crust:

"La, by the tombstones of St. Ann,
There's fee, if fee ye must!"
The second, that was a chestnut man,
Out of his bundle draws a bone:

"Lo, by the belfry of St. Ann,
And all my breakfast gone!"
The third, that was a yellow man,
Out of his bundle picks a groat,

"La, by the Angel of St. Ann,
And I must go without."
That changeling, lean and icy-lipped,
Touched crust, and bone, and
groat, and lo!
Beneath her finger taper-tipped
The magic all ran through.
Instead of crust a peacock pie,
Instead of bone sweet venison,

Instead of groat a white lily

With seven blooms thereon.
And each fair cup was deep with wine:
Such was the changeling's
charity,
The sweet feast was enough for nine,
But not too much for three.
O toothsome meat in jelly froze!
O tender haunch of elfin stag!
O
rich the odour that arose!
O plump with scraps each bag!
There, in the daybreak gold and wild,
Each merry-hearted beggar
man
Drank deep unto the fairy child,
And blessed the good St. Ann.
THE DWARF
"Now, Jinnie, my dear, to the dwarf be off,
That lives in Barberry
Wood,
And fetch me some honey, but be sure you don't laugh,--
He
hates little girls that are rude, are rude,
He hates little girls that are
rude."
Jane tapped at the door of the house in the wood,
And the dwarf
looked over the wall,
He eyed her so queer, 'twas as much as she
could
To keep from laughing at all, at all,
To keep from laughing at
all.
His shoes down the passage came clod, clod, clod,
And when he
opened the door,
He croaked so harsh, 'twas as much as she could

To keep from laughing the more, the more,
To keep from laughing
the more.
As there, with his bushy red beard, he stood,
Pricked out to double its
size,
He squinted so cross, 'twas as much as she could
To keep the

tears out of her eyes, her eyes,
To keep the tears out of her eyes.
He slammed the door, and went clod, clod, clod,
But while in the
porch she bides,
He squealed so fierce, 'twas as much as she could

To keep from cracking her sides, her sides,
To keep from cracking
her sides.
He threw a pumpkin over the wall,
And melons and apples beside,

So thick in the air that to see them all fall,
She laughed, and laughed,
till she cried, cried, cried;
Jane laughed and laughed till she cried.
Down fell her teardrops a pit-apat-pat,
And red as a rose she grew;--

"Kah! kah," said the dwarf, "is it crying you're at?
It's the very
worst thing you could do, do, do,
It's the very worst thing you could
do."
He slipped like a monkey up into a tree,
He shook her down cherries
like rain;
"See now," says he, cheeping, "a blackbird I be,
Laugh,
laugh, little Jinnie, again--gain--gain,
Laugh, laugh, little Jinnie,
again."
Ah me! what a strange, what a gladsome duet
From a house in the
deeps of a wood!
Such shrill and such harsh voices never met yet

A-laughing as loud as they could, could, could,
A-laughing as loud as they could.
Come Jinnie, come dwarf, cocksparrow, and bee,
There's a ring
gaudy-green in the dell,
Sing, sing, ye sweet cherubs, that flit in the
tree;
La! who can draw tears from a well, well, well,
Who ever
drew tears from a well!
ALULVAN
The sun is clear of bird and cloud,
The grass shines windless, grey
and still,
In dusky ruin the owl dreams on,
The cuckoo echoes on

the hill;
Yet soft along Alulvan's walks
The ghost at noonday stalks.
His eyes in shadow of his hat
Stare on the ruins of his house;
His
cloak, up-fastened with a brooch,
Of faded velvet grey as mouse,

Brushes the roses as he goes:
Yet wavers not one rose.
The wild birds in a cloud fly up
From their sweet feeding in the fruit;

The droning of the bees and flies
Rises gradual as a lute;
Is it for
fear the birds are flown,
And shrills the insect-drone?
Thick is the ivy over Alulvan,
And crisp with summer-heat its turf;

Far, far across its empty pastures
Alulvan's sands are white with surf:

And he himself is grey as the sea,
Watching beneath an elder-tree.
All night the fretful, shrill Banshee
Lurks in the ivy's dark festoons,

Calling for ever, o'er garden and river,
Through magpie changing of
the moons:
"Alulvan, O, alas! Alulvan,
The doom of lone Alulvan!"
THE PEDLAR
There came a pedlar to an evening house;
Sweet Lettice, from her
lattice looking down,
Wondered what man he was, so curious
His
black hair dangled on his tattered gown:
Then lifts he up his face,
with glittering eyes,--
"What will you buy, sweetheart?--Here's
honeycomb,
And mottled pippins, and sweet mulberry pies,

Comfits and peaches, snowy cherry bloom,
To keep in water for to
make night sweet:
All that you want, sweetheart,--come, taste and
eat!"

Even with his sugared words, returned to her
The clear remembrance
of a gentle voice:
"And O! my child, should ever a flatterer
Tap
with his wares, and promise of all joys,
And vain sweet pleasures that
on earth