Songs of Childhood | Page 6

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 twilight 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!?For still dreams like rain!
I SAW THREE WITCHES
I saw three witches?That bowed down like barley,?And took to 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,?And smote on the cages, and ended their song.
I saw three witches?That sailed in a shallop,?All turning their heads with a truculent 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 NIGHT-SWANS
'Tis silence on the enchanted lake,?And silence in the air serene,?Save for the beating of her heart,?The lovely-eyed Evangeline.
She sings across the waters clear?And dark with trees and stars between,?The notes her fairy godmother?Taught her, the child Evangeline.
As might the unrippled pool reply,?Faltering an answer far and sweet,?Three swans as white as mountain snow?Swim mantling to her feet.
And still upon the lake they stay,?Their eyes black stars in all their snow,?And softly, in the glassy pool,?Their feet beat darkly to and fro.
She rides upon her little boat,?Her swans swim through the starry sheen,?Rowing her into Fairyland--?The lovely-eyed Evangeline.
'Tis silence on the enchanted lake,?And silence in the air serene;?Voices shall call in vain again?On earth the child Evangeline.
'Evangeline! Evangeline!'?Upstairs, downstairs, all in vain.?Her room is dim; her flowers faded;?She answers not again.
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, adown 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 enclust'ring 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 chesnut man,?Out of his bundle draws a bone:?'La, 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