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

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 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