The Children's Garland from the Best Poets Part 36

_All._ Paddock calls:--anon-- Fair is foul, and foul is fair; Hover through the fog and filthy air.

THE CHARM

_1st Witch._ Thrice the brinded cat hath mewed.

_2d Witch._ Thrice: and once the hedgehog whined.

_3d Witch._ Harpier cries:--'Tis time, 'tis time:

_1st Witch._ Round about the caldron go: In the poison'd entrails throw.

Toad, that under the cold stone, Days and nights hast thirty-one Swelter'd venom sleeping got, Boil thou first i' the charmed pot!

_All._ Double, double toil and trouble; Fire burn, and, caldron, bubble.

_2d Witch._ Fillet of a fenny snake, In the caldron boil and bake; Eye of newt, and toe of frog, Wool of bat, and tongue of dog, Adder's fork, and blind-worm's sting, Lizard's leg, and owlet's wing, For a charm of powerful trouble; Like a h.e.l.l-broth boil and bubble.

_All._ Double, double toil and trouble; Fire burn, and, caldron, bubble.

_3d Witch._ Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf; Witches' mummy; maw and gulf Of the ravin'd salt sea shark; Root of hemlock, digged i' the dark; Liver of blaspheming Jew; Gall of goat, and slips of yew Sliver'd in the moon's eclipse; Nose of Turk, and Tartar's lips; Add thereto a tiger's chaudron, For the ingredients of our caldron.

_All._ Double, double toil and trouble; Fire burn, and, caldron, bubble.

_2d Witch._ Cool it with a baboon's blood, Then the charm is firm and good.

_W. Shakespeare_

CVI

_ADELGITHA_

The ordeal's fatal trumpet sounded, And sad pale Adelgitha came, When forth a valiant champion bounded, And slew the slanderer of her fame.

She wept, deliver'd from her danger; But when he knelt to claim her glove-- 'Seek not,' she cried, 'oh! gallant stranger, For hapless Adelgitha's love.

'For he is in a foreign far land Whose arms should now have set me free; And I must wear the willow garland For him that's dead or false to me.'

'Nay! say not that his faith is tainted!'

He raised his vizor--at the sight She fell into his arms and fainted; It was indeed her own true knight!

_T. Campbell_

CVII

_THE COUNCIL OF HORSES_

Upon a time a neighing steed, Who graz'd among a numerous breed, With mutiny had fired the train, And spread dissension through the plain On matters that concern'd the state, The council met in grand debate.

A colt whose eyeb.a.l.l.s flamed with ire, Elate with strength and youthful fire, In haste stept forth before the rest, And thus the listening throng address'd.

'Goodness, how abject is our race, Condemn'd to slavery and disgrace!

Shall we our servitude retain, Because our sires have borne the chain?

Consider, friends! your strength and might; 'Tis conquest to a.s.sert your right.

How c.u.mbrous is the gilded coach!

The pride of man is our reproach.

Were we design'd for daily toil, To drag the ploughshare through the soil, To sweat in harness through the road, To groan beneath the carrier's load?

How feeble are the two-legg'd kind!

What force is in our nerves combin'd!

Shall then our n.o.bler jaws submit To foam and champ the galling bit?

Shall haughty man my back bestride?

Shall the sharp spur provoke my side?

Forbid it, heavens! reject the rein; Your shame, your infamy, disdain.

Let him the lion first control, And still the tiger's famish'd growl.

Let us, like them, our freedom claim, And make him tremble at our name.'

A general nod approv'd the cause, And all the circle neigh'd applause.

When, lo! with grave and solemn pace, A steed advanc'd before the race, With age and long experience wise; Around he cast his thoughtful eyes, And, to the murmurs of the train, Thus spoke the Nestor of the plain.

'When I had health and strength like you The toils of servitude I knew; Now grateful man rewards my pains, And gives me all these wide domains.

At will I crop the year's increase; My latter life is rest and peace.

I grant, to man we lend our pains, And aid him to correct the plains; But doth not he divide the care, Through all the labours of the year?

How many thousand structures rise, To fence us from inclement skies!

For us he bears the sultry day, And stores up all our winter's hay.

He sows, he reaps the harvest's gain; We share the toil and share the grain.

Since every creature was decreed To aid each other's mutual need, Appease your discontented mind, And act the part by heaven a.s.sign'd.'

The tumult ceas'd, the colt submitted, And, like his ancestors, was bitted.

_J. Gay_

CVIII

_ST. ROMUALD_

One day, it matters not to know How many hundred years ago, A Frenchman stopt at an inn door: The Landlord came to welcome him and chat Of this and that, For he had seen the traveller there before.

'Doth holy Romuald dwell Still in his cell?'

The Traveller ask'd, 'or is the old man dead?'

'No; he has left his loving flock, and we So great a Christian never more shall see,'

The Landlord answer'd, and he shook his head.

'Ah, sir, we knew his worth!

If ever there did live a saint on earth!

Why, sir, he always used to wear a shirt For thirty days, all seasons, day and night.