Peacock Pie, A Book of Rhymes | Page 6

LOST SHOE
Poor little Lucy
By some mischance,?Lost her shoe
As she did dance -?'Twas not on the stairs,
Not in the hall;?Not where they sat
At supper at all.?She looked in the garden,
But there it was not;?Henhouse, or kennel,
Or high dovecote.?Dairy and meadow,
And wild woods through?Showed not a trace
Of Lucy's shoe.?Bird nor bunny
Nor glimmering moon?Breathed a whisper
Of where 'twas gone.?It was cried and cried,
Oyez and Oyez!?In French, Dutch, Latin,
And Portuguese.?Ships the dark seas
Went plunging through,?But none brought news
Of Lucy's shoe;?And still she patters
In silk and leather,?O'er snow, sand, shingle,
In every weather;?Spain, and Africa,
Hindustan,?Java, China,
And lamped Japan;?Plain and desert,
She hops-hops through,?Pernambuco
To gold Peru;?Mountain and forest,
And river too,?All the world over
For her lost shoe.
THE TRUANTS
Ere my heart beats too coldly and faintly
To remember sad things, yet be gay,?I would sing a brief song of the world's little children
Magic hath stolen away.
The primroses scattered by April,
The stars of the wide Milky Way,?Cannot outnumber the hosts of the children
Magic hath stolen away.
The buttercup green of the meadows,
The snow of the blossoming may,?Lovelier are not than the legions of children
Magic hath stolen away.
The waves tossing surf in the moonbeam,
The albatross lone on the spray,?Alone know the tears wept in vain for the children
Magic hath stolen away.
In vain: for at hush of the evening,
When the stars twinkle into the grey,?Seems to echo the far-away calling of children
Magic hath stolen away.
THREE QUEER TALES
BERRIES
There was an old woman
Went blackberry picking?Along the hedges
From Weep to Wicking. -?Half a pottleNo
more she had got,?When out steps a Fairy
From her green grot;?And says, 'Well, Jill,
Would 'ee pick ee mo?'?And Jill, she curtseys,
And looks just so.?Be off,' says the Fairy,
'As quick as you can,?Over the meadows
To the little green lane?That dips to the hayfields
Of Farmer Grimes:?I've berried those hedges
A score of times;?Bushel on bushel
I'll promise'ee, Jill,?This side of supper
If'ee pick with a will.'?She glints very bright,
And speaks her fair;?Then lo, and behold!
She had faded in air.
Be sure Old Goodie
She trots betimes?Over the meadows
To Farmer Grimes.?And never was queen
With jewelry rich?As those same hedges
From twig to ditch;?Like Dutchmen's coffers,
Fruit, thorn, and flower -?They shone like William
And Mary's bower.?And be sure Old Goodie
Went back to Weep,?So tired with her basket
She scarce could creep.
When she comes in the dusk
To her cottage door,?There's Towser wagging
As never before,?To see his Missus
So glad to be?Come from her fruit-picking
Back to he.?As soon as next morning
Dawn was grey,?The pot on the hob
Was simmering away;?And all in a stew
And a hugger-mugger?Towser and Jill
A-boiling of sugar,?And the dark clear fruit
That from Faerie came,?For syrup and jelly
And blackberry jam.
Twelve jolly gallipots
Jill put by;?And one little teeny one,
One inch high;?And that she's hidden
A good thumb deep,?Half way over
From Wicking to Weep.
OFF THE GROUND
Three jolly Farmers?Once bet a pound?Each dance the others would?Off the ground.?Out of their coats?They slipped right soon,?And neat and nicesome,?Put each his shoon.?One - Two - Three! -?And away they go,?Not too fast,?And not too slow;?Out from the elm-tree's?Noonday shadow,?Into the sun?And across the meadow.?Past the schoolroom,?With knees well bent?Fingers a-flicking,?They dancing went.?Up sides and over,?And round and round,?They crossed click-clacking,?The Parish bound,?By Tupman's meadow?They did their mile,?Tee-t-tum?On a three-barred stile.?Then straight through Whipham,?Downhill to Week,?Footing it lightsome,?But not too quick,?Up fields to Watchet,?And on through Wye,?Till seven fine churches?They'd seen skip by -?Seven fine churches,?And five old mills,?Farms in the valley,?And sheep on the hills;?Old Man's Acre?And Dead Man's Pool?All left behind,?As they danced through Wool.?And Wool gone by,?Like tops that seem?To spin in sleep?They danced in dream;?Withy - Wellover -?Wassop-WoLike?an old clock?Their heels did go.?A league and a league?And a league they went,?And not one weary,?And not one spent.?And Io, and behold!?Past Willow-cum-Leigh?Stretched with its waters?The great green sea.?Says Farmer Bates,?I puffs and I blows,?What's under the water,?Why, no man knows!'?Says Farmer Giles,?'My wind comes weak,?And a good man drownded?Is far to seek.'?But Farmer Turvey,?On twirling toes?Up's with his gaiters,?And in he goes:?Down where the mermaids?Pluck and play?On their twangling harps?In a sea-green day;?Down where the mermaids,?Finned and fair,?Sleek with their combs?Their yellow hair....?Bates and GilesOn?the shingle sat,?Gazing at Turvey's?Floating hat.?But never a ripple?Nor bubble told?Where he was supping?Off plates of gold.?Never an echo?Rilled through the sea?Of the feasting and dancing?And minstrelsy.?They called-called-called:?Came no reply:?Nought but the ripples'?Sandy sigh.?Then glum and silent?They sat instead,?Vacantly brooding?On home and bed,?Till both together?Stood up and said.-?'Us knows not, dreams not,?Where you be,?Turvey, unless?In the deep blue sea;?But axcusing silverAnd?it comes most willing -?Here's us two paying?Our forty shilling;?For it's sartin sure, Turvey,?Safe and sound,?You danced us square, Turvey,?Off the ground!'
THE THIEF AT ROBIN'S CASTLE
There came a Thief one night to Robin's Castle,?He climbed up into a Tree;?And sitting with his head among the branches,?A wondrous Sight did see.
For there was Robin supping at his table,?With Candles of pure Wax,?His Dame and his two beauteous little Children,?With Velvet on their backs.
Platters for each there were shin-shining,?Of Silver many a pound,?And all of beaten Gold, three brimming Goblets,?Standing the