Peacock Pie, A Book of Rhymes | Page 4

Walter de la Mare
EARTH
Mrs. Earth makes silver black,
Mrs. Earth makes iron red?But Mrs. Earth can not stain gold,
Nor ruby red.?Mrs. earth the slenderest bone
Whitens in her bosom cold,?But Mrs. Earth can change my dreams
No more than ruby or gold.?Mrs. Earth and Mr. Sun
Can tan my skin, and tire my toes,?But all that I'm thinking of, ever shall think,
Why, either knows.
ALAS, ALACK!
Ann, Ann!
Come! Quick as you can!?There's a fish that talks
In the frying-pan.?Out of the fat,
As clear as glass,?He put up his mouth
And moaned 'Alas!'?Oh, most mournful,
'Alas, alack!'?Then turned to his sizzling,
And sank him back.
TIRED TIM
Poor Tired Tim! It's sad for him.?He lags the long bright morning through,?Ever so tired of nothing to do;?He moons and mopes the livelong day,?Nothing to think about, nothing to say;?Up to bed with his candle to creep,?Too tired to yawn, too tired to sleep:?Poor Tired Tim! It's sad for him.
MIMA
Jemima is my name,
But oh, I have another;?My father always calls me Meg,
And so do Bob and mother;?Only my sister, jealous of
The strands of my bright hair,?'Jemima - Mima - Mima!'
Calls, mocking, up the stair.
THE HUNTSMEN
Three jolly gentlemen,
In coats of red,?Rode their horses
Up to bed.
Three jolly gentlemen
Snored till morn,?Their horses champing
The golden corn.
Three jolly gentlemen,
At break of day,?Came clitter-clatter down the stairs?And galloped away.
THE BANDOG
Has anybody seen my Mopser? --
A comely dog is he,?With hair of the colour of a Charles the Fifth,
And teeth like ships at sea,?His tail it curls straight upwards,
His ears stand two abreast,?And he answers to the simple name of Mopser
When civilly addressed.
I CAN'T ABEAR
I can't abear a Butcher,
I can't abide his meat,?The ugliest shop of all is his,
The ugliest in the street;?Bakers' are warm, cobblers' dark,
Chemists' burn watery lights;?But oh, the sawdust butcher's shop,
That ugliest of sights!
THE DUNCE
Why does he still keep ticking?
Why does his round white face?Stare at me over the books and ink,
And mock at my disgrace??Why does that thrush call, 'Dunce, dunce, dunce!'?
Why does that bluebottle buzz??Why does the sun so silent shine? --
And what do I care if it does?
CHICKEN
Clapping her platter stood plump Bess,
And all across the green?Came scampering in, on wing and claw,
Chicken fat and lean:?Dorking, Spaniard, Cochin China,
Bantams sleek and small,?Like feathers blown in a great wind,
They came at Bessie's call.
SOME ONE
Some one came knocking
At my wee, small door;?Some one came knocking,
I'm sure - sure - sure;?I listened, I opened,
I looked to left and right,?But naught there was a-stirring
In the still dark night;?Only the busy beetle
Tap-tapping in the wall,?Only from the forest
The screech-owl's call,?Only the cricket whistling
While the dewdrops fall,?So I know not who came knocking,?At all, at all, at all.
BREAD AND CHERRIES
'Cherries, ripe cherries!'
The old woman cried,?In her snowy white apron,
And basket beside;?And the little boys came,
Eyes shining, cheeks red,?To buy a bag of cherries,?To eat with their bread.
OLD SHELLOVER
'Come!' said Old Shellover.?'What?' says Creep.?'The horny old Gardener's fast asleep;?The fat cock Thrush?To his nest has gone;?And the dew shines bright?In the rising Moon;?Old Sallie Worm from her hole doth peep:?Come!' said Old Shellover.?'Aye!' said Creep.
HAPLESS
Hapless, hapless, I must be?All the hours of life I see,?Since my foolish nurse did once?Bed me on her leggen bones;?Since my mother did not weel?To snip my nails with blades of steel.?Had they laid me on a pillow?In a cot of water willow,?Had they bitten finger and thumb,?Not to such ill hap I had come.
THE LITTLE BIRD
My dear Daddie bought a mansion
For to bring my Mammie to,?In a hat with a long feather,
And a trailing gown of blue;?And a company of fiddlers
And a rout of maids and men?Danced the clock round to the morning,
In a gay house-warming then.?And when all the guests were gone, and
All was still as still can be,?In from the dark ivy hopped a
Wee small bird: and that was Me.
CAKE AND SACK
Old King Caraway
Supped on cake,?And a cup of sack
His thirst to slake;?Bird in arras
And hound in hall?Watched very softly
Or not at all;?Fire in the middle,
Stone all round?Changed not, heeded not,
Made no sound;?All by himself
At the Table High?He'd nibble and sip
While his dreams slipped by;?And when he had finished,
He'd nod and say,?'Cake and sack
For King Caraway!'
THE SHIP OF RIO
There was a ship of Rio
Sailed out into the blue,?And nine and ninety monkeys
Were all her jovial crew.?From bo'sun to the cabin boy,
From quarter to caboose,?There weren't a stitch of calico
To breech 'em - tight or loose;?From spar to deck, from deck to keel,
From barnacle to shroud,?There weren't one pair of reach-me-downs
To all that jabbering crowd.?But wasn't it a gladsome sight,
When roared the deep sea gales,?To see them reef her fore and aft
A-swinging by their tails!?Oh, wasn't it a gladsome sight,
When glassy calm did come,?To see them squatting tailor-wise
Around a keg of rum!?Oh, wasn't it a gladsome sight,
When in she sailed to land,?To see them all a-scampering skip
For nuts across the sand!
TILLIE
Old Tillie Turveycombe?Sat to sew,?Just where a patch of fern did grow;?There, as she yawned,?And yawn wide did
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