Collected Poems 1901-1918 in Two Volumes - Volume II. | Page 8

"The Miller went a-walking
All in the forest high,
He sees three
doves a-flitting
Against the dark blue sky:
"Says he, 'My son, now follow
These doves so white and free,
That
cry above the forest,
And surely cry to thee.'
"'I go, my dearest Father,
But O! I sadly fear,
These doves so white
will lead me far,
But never bring me near.'
"He kisses the Miller,
He cries, 'Awhoop to ye!'
And straightway
through the forest
Follows the wood-doves three.
"There came a sound of weeping
To the Miller in his Mill:
Red
roses in a thicket
Bloomed over near his wheel;
"Three stars shone wild and brightly
Above the forest dim:
But
never his dearest son
Returns again to him.
"The cuckoo shall call 'Cuckoo!'
In vain along the vale--
The linnet,
and the blackbird,
The mournful nightingale;

"The Miller hears and sees not,
Thinking of his son;
His toppling
wheel is silent;
His grinding done.
"'You doves so white,' he weepeth,
'You roses on the tree,
You stars
that shine so brightly,
You shine in vain for me!
"'I bade him follow, follow!'
He said, 'O Father dear,
These doves
so white will lead me far
But never bring me near.'"...
A twangling harp for Mary,
A silvery flute for John,
And now we'll
play, the livelong day,
"The Miller and his Son."
DOWN-ADOWN-DERRY
Down-adown-derry,
Sweet Annie Maroon,
Gathering daisies
In
the meadows of Doone,
Hears a shrill piping,
Elflike and free,

Where the waters go brawling
In rills to the sea;
Singing
down-adown-derry.
Down-adown-derry,
Sweet Annie Maroon,
Through the green
grasses
Peeps softly; and soon
Spies under green willows
A fairy
whose song
Like the smallest of bubbles
Floats bobbing along;

Singing down-adown-derry.
Down-adown-derry,
Her cheeks were like wine,
Her eyes in her
wee face
Like water-sparks shine,
Her niminy fingers
Her sleep
tresses preen,
The which in the combing
She peeps out between;

Singing down-adown-derry.
Down-adown-derry,
Shrill, shrill was her tune:--
"Come to my
water-house,
Annie Maroon:
Come in your dimity,

Ribbon on
head,
To wear siller seaweed
And coral instead";
Singing
down-adown-derry.
"Down-adown-derry,
Lean fish of the sea,
Bring lanthorns for

feasting
The gay Faërie;
'Tis sand for the dancing,
A music all
sweet
In the water-green gloaming
For thistledown feet";
Singing
down-adown-derry.
Down-adown-derry,
Sweet Annie Maroon
Looked large on the
fairy
Curled wan as the moon;
And all the grey ripples
To the
Mill racing by,
With harps and with timbrels
Did ringing reply;

Singing down-adown-derry.
"Down-adown-derry,"
Sang the Fairy of Doone,
Piercing the heart

Of sweet Annie Maroon;
And lo! when like roses
The clouds of
the sun
Faded at dusk, gone
Was Annie Maroon;
Singing
down-adown-derry.
Down-adown-derry,
The daisies are few;
Frost twinkles powdery

In haunts of the dew;
And only the robin
Perched on a thorn,
Can
comfort the heart
Of a father forlorn;
Singing down-adown-derry.
Down-adown-derry,
There's snow in the air;
Ice where the lily

Bloomed waxen and fair;
He may call o'er the water,
Cry--cry
through the Mill,
But Annie Maroon, alas!
Answer ne'er will;

Singing down-adown-derry.
THE SUPPER
A wolf he pricks with eyes of fire
Across the night's o'ercrusted
snows.
Seeking his prey,
He pads his way
Where Jane benighted goes,

Where Jane benighted goes.
He curdles the bleak air with ire,
Ruffling his hoary raiment through,
And lo! he sees
Beneath the trees
Where Jane's light footsteps go,

Where Jane's light footsteps go.

No hound peals thus in wicked joy,
He snaps his muzzle in the
snows,
His five-clawed feet
Do scamper fleet
Where Jane's bright lanthorn
shows,
Where Jane's bright lanthorn shows.
Now his greed's green doth gaze unseen
On a pure face of wilding
rose,
Her amber eyes
In fear's surprise
Watch largely as she goes,

Watch largely as she goes.
Salt wells his hunger in his jaws,
His lust it revels to and fro,
Yet small beneath
A soft voice saith,
"Jane shall in safety go,
Jane
shall in safety go."
He lurched as if a fiery lash
Had scourged his hide, and through and
through
His furious eyes
O'erscanned the skies,
But nearer dared not go,

But nearer dared not go.
He reared like wild Bucephalus,
His fangs like spears in him uprose,
Even to the town
Jane's flitting gown
He grins on as she goes,
He
grins on as she goes.
In fierce lament he howls amain,
He scampers, marvelling in his
throes
What brought him there
To sup on air,
While Jane unharmèd goes,

While Jane unharmèd goes.
THE ISLE OF LONE
Three dwarfs there were which lived in an isle,
And the name of that

Isle was Lone,
And the names of the dwarfs were Alliolyle,
Lallerie,
Muziomone.
Alliolye was green of een,
Lallerie light of locks,
Muziomone was
mild of mien,
As ewes in April flocks.
Their house was small and sweet of the sea,
And pale as the Malmsey
wine;
Their bowls were three, and their beds were three,
And their
nightcaps white were nine.
Their beds they were made of the holly-wood,
Their combs of the
tortoise's shell,
Three basins of silver in corners there stood,
And
three little ewers as well.
Green rushes, green rushes lay thick on the floor,
For light beamed a
gobbet of wax;
There were three wooden stools for whatever they
wore
On their humpity-dumpity backs.
So each would lie on a drowsy pillow
And watch the moon in the
sky--
And hear the parrot scream to the billow,
The billow roar
reply:
Parrots of sapphire and sulphur and amber,
Scarlet, and flame, and
green,
While five-foot apes did scramble and clamber,
In the
feathery-tufted treen.
All night long with bubbles a-glisten
The ocean cried under the moon,

Till ape and parrot, too sleepy to listen,
To sleep and slumber were
gone.
Then from