Songs of Childhood - Part 2
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Part 2

And all the wild sea-water Climbed steep into the boat; Back to the sh.o.r.e 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 G.o.dmother 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 gla.s.sy 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 weatherc.o.c.k 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 encl.u.s.t'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 m.u.f.fled.

The daybreak lighted up her face All pink, and sharp, and emerald-eyed; She looked on them a little s.p.a.ce, 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 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 peac.o.c.k pie, Instead of bone sweet venison, Instead of groat a white lilie 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 much for three.

O toothsome meat in jelly froze!

O tender haunch of elfin stag!

O rich the odour that arose!

O plump with sc.r.a.ps each bag!

There, in the daybreak gold and wild, Each merry-hearted beggar man Drank deep unto the fairy child, And blessed the good St Ann.

THE DWARF

'Now, Jinnie, my dear, to the dwarf be off, That lives in Barberry Wood, And fetch me some honey, but be sure you don't laugh,-- He hates little girls that are rude, are rude, He hates little girls that are rude.'

Jane tapped at the door of the house in the wood, And the dwarf looked over the wall, He eyed her so queer, 'twas as much as she could To keep from laughing at all, at all, To keep from laughing at all.

His shoes down the pa.s.sage came clod, clod, clod, And when he opened the door, He croaked so harsh, 'twas as much as she could To keep from laughing the more, the more, To keep from laughing the more.

As there, with his bushy red beard, he stood, p.r.i.c.ked out to double its size, He squinted so cross, 'twas as much as she could To keep the tears out of her eyes, her eyes, To keep the tears out of her eyes.