Songs of Childhood | Page 6

she cocked her lissome ear,
And she eyed the moon so bright,

And she nibbled o' the green;
And I whispered 'Whsst! witch-hare,'


Away like a ghostie o'er the field
She fled, and left the moonlight

there.
BUNCHES OF GRAPES
'Bunches of grapes,' says Timothy;
'Pomegranates pink,' says Elaine;

'A junket of cream and a cranberry tart
For me,' says Jane.
'Love-in-a-mist,' says Timothy;
'Primroses pale,' says Elaine;
'A
nosegay of pinks and mignonette
For me,' says Jane.
'Chariots of gold,' says Timothy;
'Silvery wings,' says Elaine;
'A
bumpity ride in a wagon of hay
For me,' says Jane.
JOHN MOULDY
I spied John Mouldy in his cellar,
Deep down twenty steps of stone;

In the dusk he sat a-smiling,
Smiling there alone.
He read no book, he snuffed no candle;
The rats ran in, the rats ran
out;
And far and near, the drip of water
Went whisp'ring about.
The dusk was still, with dew a-falling,
I saw the Dog-star bleak and
grim,
I saw a slim brown rat of Norway
Creep over him.
I spied John Mouldy in his cellar,
Deep down 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 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