Down-Adown-Derry Part 4

And then with sly and greedy thumbs Would rifle the sweet honeycombs.

And drowsily drone to drone would say, "A cold, cold wind blows in this way"; And the great Queen would turn her head From face to face, astonished, And, though her maids with comb and brush Would comb and soothe and whisper, "Hus.h.!.+"

About the hive would shrilly go A keening--keening, to and fro; At which those robbers 'neath the trees Would taunt and mock the honey-bees, And through their sticky teeth would buzz Just as an angry hornet does.

And when this Gimmul and this Mel Had munched and sucked and swilled their fill, Or ever Man's first c.o.c.k could crow Back to their Faerie Mounds they'd go.

Edging across the twilight air, Thieves of a guise remotely fair.

BERRIES

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There was an old woman Went blackberry picking Along the hedges From Weep to Wicking.

Half a pottle-- No 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 has faded in air.

Be sure old Goodie She trots betimes Over the meadows To Farmer Grimes.

And never was queen With jewellry 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.

HAPPY, HAPPY IT IS TO BE

"Happy, happy it is to be Where the greenwood hangs o'er the dark blue sea; To roam in the moonbeams clear and still And dance with the elves Over dale and hill; To taste their cups, and with them roam The field for dewdrops and honeycomb.

Climb then, and come, as quick as you can, And dwell with the fairies, Elizabeth Ann!

"Never, never, comes tear or sorrow, In the mansions old where the fairies dwell; But only the harping of their sweet harp-strings, And the lonesome stroke of a distant bell, Where upon hills of thyme and heather, The shepherd sits with his wandering sheep; And the curlew wails, and the skylark hovers Over the sand where the conies creep; Climb then, and come, as quick as you can, And dwell with the fairies, Elizabeth Ann!"

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THE MIDDEN'S SONG

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"Bubble, Bubble, Swim to see Oh, how beautiful I be.

"Fishes, Fishes, Finned and fine, What's your gold Compared with mine?

"Why, then, has Wise Tishnar made One so lovely, Yet so sad?

"Lone am I, And can but make A little song, For singing's sake."

ALL BUT BLIND

All but blind In his chambered hole Gropes for worms The four-clawed Mole.

All but blind In the evening sky The hooded Bat Twirls softly by.

All but blind In the burning day The Barn-Owl blunders On her way.

And blind as are These three to me, So, blind to Some-one I must be.

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THE MOCKING FAIRY

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"Won't you look out of your window, Mrs. Gill?"

Quoth the Fairy, nidding, nodding in the garden; "_Can't_ you look out of your window, Mrs. Gill?"

Quoth the Fairy, laughing softly in the garden; But the air was still, the cherry boughs were still, And the ivy-tod 'neath the empty sill, And never from her window looked out Mrs. Gill On the Fairy shrilly mocking in the garden.

"What have they done with you, you poor Mrs. Gill?"

Quoth the Fairy, brightly glancing in the garden; "Where have they hidden you, you poor old Mrs. Gill?"

Quoth the Fairy dancing lightly in the garden; But night's faint veil now wrapped the hill, Stark 'neath the stars stood the dead-still Mill, And out of her cold cottage never answered Mrs. Gill The Fairy mimbling mambling in the garden.

DOWN-ADOWN-DERRY

Down-adown-derry, Sweet Annie Maroon, Gathering daisies In the meadows of Doone, Hears a shrill piping, Elflike and free, Where the waters go brawling In rills to the sea; Singing down-adown-derry.

Down-adown-derry, Sweet Annie Maroon, Through the green gra.s.ses Peeps softly; and soon Spies under green willows A fairy whose song Like the smallest of bubbles Floats bobbing along; Singing down-adown-derry.

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