The Children's Garland from the Best Poets Part 51

Thus hermit-like his life he leads, Nor partner of his banquet needs, And, if he meets one, only feeds The faster.

Who seeks him must be worse than blind, (He and his house are so combined,) If, finding it, he fails to find Its master.

_V. Bourne_

CLI

_THE COLUBRIAD_

Close by the threshold of a door nail'd fast, Three kittens sat; each kitten look'd aghast.

I, pa.s.sing swift and inattentive by, At the three kittens cast a careless eye; Not much concern'd to know what they did there, Not deeming kittens worth a Poet's care.

But presently a loud and furious hiss Caused me to stop, and to exclaim, 'What's this?'

When lo! upon the threshold met my view, With head erect, and eyes of fiery hue, A viper, long as Count de Gra.s.se's queue.

Forth from his head his forked tongue he throws, Darting it full against a kitten's nose; Who having never seen, in field or house, The like, sat still and silent as a mouse: Only projecting, with attention due, Her whisker'd face, she asked him, 'Who are you?

On to the hall went I, with pace not slow, But swift as lightning, for a long Dutch hoe: With which well arm'd I hasten'd to the spot, To find the viper, but I found him not.

And, turning up the leaves and shrubs around, Found only, that he was not to be found.

But still the kitten, sitting as before, Sat watching close the bottom of the door.

'I hope,' said I, 'the villain I would kill Has slipp'd between the door and the door-sill; And if I make despatch, and follow hard, No doubt but I shall find him in the yard;'

For long ere now it should have been rehea.r.s.ed, 'Twas in the garden that I found him first.

Even there I found him--there the full-grown cat, His head, with velvet paw, did gently pat; As curious as the kittens each had been To learn what this phenomenon might mean.

Fill'd with heroic ardour at the sight, And fearing every moment he would bite, And rob our household of our only cat That was of age to combat with a rat, With outstretch'd hoe I slew him at the door, And taught him never to come thither more.

_W. Cowper_

CLII

_THE PRIEST AND THE MULBERRY-TREE_

Did you hear of the curate who mounted his mare, And merrily trotted along to the fair?

Of creature more tractable none ever heard, In the height of her speed she would stop at a word; But again with a word, when the curate said, Hey, She put forth her mettle and gallop'd away.

As near to the gates of the city he rode, While the sun of September all brilliantly glow'd, The good priest discover'd, with eyes of desire, A mulberry-tree in a hedge of wild briar; On boughs long and lofty, in many a green shoot, Hung large, black, and glossy, the beautiful fruit.

The curate was hungry and thirsty to boot; He shrunk from the thorns, though he long'd for the fruit; With a word he arrested his courser's keen speed, And he stood up erect on the back of his steed; On the saddle he stood while the creature stood still, And he gather'd the fruit till he took his good fill.

'Sure never,' he thought, 'was a creature so rare, So docile, so true, as my excellent mare; Lo, here now I stand,' and he gazed all around, 'As safe and as steady as if on the ground; Yet how had it been, if some traveller this way, Had, dreaming no mischief, but chanced to cry, Hey?'

He stood with his head in the mulberry-tree, And he spoke out aloud in his fond reverie; At the sound of the word the good mare made a push, And down went the priest in the wild-briar bush.

He remember'd too late, on his th.o.r.n.y green bed, Much that well may be thought cannot wisely be said.

_T. L. Peac.o.c.k_

CLIII

_THE PRIDE OF YOUTH_

Proud Maisie is in the wood, Walking so early; Sweet Robin sits on the bush Singing so rarely.

'Tell me, thou bonny bird, When shall I marry me?'

'When six braw gentlemen Kirkward shall carry ye.

'Who makes the bridal bed, Birdie, say truly?'

'The grey-headed s.e.xton That delves the grave duly.

'The glow-worm o'er grave and stone Shall light thee steady; The owl from the steeple sing Welcome, proud lady.'

_Sir W. Scott_

CLIV

_SIR LANCELOT DU LAKE_

When Arthur first in court began, And was approved king, By force of arms great victories wan And conquest home did bring,

Then into England straight he came With fifty good and able Knights, that resorted unto him, And were of his round table:

And he had jousts and tournaments, Whereto were many prest, Wherein some knights did far excel And eke surmount the rest.

But one Sir Lancelot du Lake, Who was approved well, He for his deeds and feats of arms All others did excel.

When he had rested him awhile, In play, and game, and sport, He said he would go prove himself In some adventurous sort.

He armed rode in a forest wide, And met a damsel fair Who told him of adventures great, Whereto he gave great ear.

'Such would I find,' quoth Lancelot: 'For that cause came I hither.'

'Thou seem'st,' quoth she, 'a knight full good.

And I will bring thee thither,

'Whereas a mighty knight doth dwell, That now is of great fame: Therefore tell me what wight thou art, And what may be thy name.'

'My name is Lancelot du Lake.'

Quoth she, 'It likes me than; Here dwells a knight who never was Yet match'd with any man: