Till a wind or water wrinkle,Dipping marten,plumping trout,Spreads in a twinkle And blots all out.
See the rings pursue each other;
All below grows black as night,Just as if mother Had blown out the light!
Patience,children,just a minute——
See the spreading circles die;
The stream and all in it Will clear by-and-by.
XXXVI
Fairy Bread Come up here,Odusty feet!
Here is fairy bread to eat.
Here in my retiring room,Children,you may dine On the golden smell of broom And the shade of pine;
And when you have eaten well,Fairy stories hear and tell.
XXXVII
From a Railway Carriage Faster than fairies,faster than witches,Bridges and houses,hedges and ditches;
And charging along like troops in a battle All through the meadows the horses and cattle:
All of the sights of the hill and the plain Fly as thick as driving rain;
And ever again,in the wink of an eye,Painted stations whistle by.
Here is a child who clambers and scrambles,All by himself and gathering brambles;
Here is a tramp who stands and gazes;
And here is the green for stringing the daisies!
Here is a cart runaway in the road Lumping along with man and load;
And here is a mill,and there is a river:
Each a glimpse and gone forever!
XXXVIII
Winter-time Late lies the wintry sun a-bed,Afrosty,fiery sleepy-head;
Blinks but an hour or two;and then,Ablood-red orange,sets again.
Before the stars have left the skies,At morning in the dark Irise;
And shivering in my nakedness,By the cold candle,bathe and dress.
Close by the jolly fire Isit To warm my frozen bones a bit;
Or with a reindeer-sled,explore The colder countries round the door.
When to go out,my nurse doth wrap Me in my comforter and cap;
The cold wind burns my face,and blows Its frosty pepper up my nose.
Black are my steps on silver sod;
Thick blows my frosty breath abroad;
And tree and house,and hill and lake,Are frosted like a wedding cake.
XXXIX
The Hayloft Through all the pleasant meadow-side The grass grew shoulder-high,Till the shining scythes went far and wide And cut it down to dry.
Those green and sweetly smelling crops They led the waggons home;
And they piled them here in mountain tops For mountaineers to roam.
Here is Mount Clear,Mount Rusty-Nail,Mount Eagle and Mount High;——
The mice that in these mountains dwell,No happier are than I!
Oh,what a joy to clamber there,Oh,what a place for play,With the sweet,the dim,the dusty air,The happy hills of hay!
XL
Farewell to the Farm The coach is at the door at last;
The eager children,mounting fast And kissing hands,in chorus sing:
Good-bye,good-bye,to everything!
To house and garden,field and lawn,The meadow-gates we swang upon,To pump and stable,tree and swing,Good-bye,good-bye,to everything!
And fare you well for evermore,Oladder at the hayloft door,Ohayloft where the cobwebs cling,Good-bye,good-bye,to everything!
Crack goes the whip,and off we go;
The trees and houses smaller grow;
Last,round the woody turn we sing:
Good-bye,good-bye,to everything!
XLI
North-west Passage 1.Good-night Then the bright lamp is carried in,The sunless hours again begin;
O'er all without,in field and lane,The haunted night returns again.
Now we behold the embers flee About the firelit hearth;and see Our faces painted as we pass,Like pictures,on the window glass.
Must we to bed indeed?Well then,Let us arise and go like men,And face with an undaunted tread The long black passage up to bed.
Farewell,Obrother,sister,sire!
Opleasant party round the fire!
The songs you sing,the tales you tell,Till far to-morrow,fare you well!
2.Shadow March All around the house is the jet-black night;
It stares through the window-pane;
It crawls in the corners,hiding from the light,And it moves with the moving flame.
Now my little heart goes a beating like a drum,With the breath of the Bogies in my hair;
And all around the candle and the crooked shadows come,And go marching along up the stair.
The shadow of the balusters,the shadow of the lamp,The shadow of the child that goes to bed——
All the wicked shadows coming tramp,tramp,tramp,With the black night overhead.
3.In Port Last,to the chamber where Ilie My fearful footsteps patter nigh,And come out from the cold and gloom Into my warm and cheerful room.
There,safe arrived,we turn about To keep the coming shadows out,And close the happy door at last On all the perils that we past.
Then,when mamma goes by to bed,She shall come in with tip-toe tread,And see me lying warm and fast And in the land of Nod at last.
