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THE FIRE-DRAKE

An' it should be you'd make,

All for your sweetheart's joy,

A jewelly fire-drake,

This goes unto the toy:

A dragon-fly that's blue,

With little glow-worms two,

And morning drops of dew

Upon a spider's thread.

All these are simple things

And easy to be got,

But now the fire-drake's wings

Will puzzle you, God wot.

The flash that in them lies

Shall come not from the skies,

But lights the diamond eyes

In your dear sweetheart's head.

Lacking that pearly gleam,

So magical to see,

Your gift is but a dream:

The fire-drake cannot be.

But if the maiden pout

And anger peepeth out,

Ere she your heart would flout

Fly to the priest and wed.

Better to love she turn

At her fond lover's side

Than for the fire-drake burn

And ever be denied.

Go husband and go wife,

Without one thought of strife,

In blessing of shared life

The marriage way to tread.

THE SEVEN MAIDENS

In far away and olden times

Sped from their hamlet seven maids

To dim and moonlit heather glades,

Upon the hour of midnight chimes.

One passion drew them secretly;

One master joy their little feet

Called to that desolate retreat,

Where never mortal man might see.

'Twas blue-eyed Dian who led the dance,

With Linnette, Bethkin, Jennifer,

Avisa, Petronell and Nance.

Unknown they kept their nightly cheer;

Unguessed beneath the moon they kept

Brave frolic, while the village slept,

Nor dreamed the danger drawing near;

For on a holy Sabbath even,

When pirouette had been a shame,

Walking sedate, strange music came

To tempt the toes of all the seven--

Of blue-eyed Dian, who led the dance,

Of Linnette, Bethkin, Jennifer,

Avisa, Petronell and Nance.

The demon Piper tuned his reed

To madden each light-footed maid.

They listened, wondering, unafraid,

Nor thought upon the sorry speed

Awaiting any wanton one

Who'd sport upon the Lord's own Day;

Then, tripping through that dimpsy grey,

Quick fingers joined--the deed was done!

For blue-eyed Dian had dared to dance

With Linnette, Bethkin, Jennifer,

Avisa, Petronell and Nance.

Their eyes like emeralds through the gloom,

Leapt elves and fairies, gnomes and imps,

In fearful haste to win a glimpse

Of the unhappy maidens' doom;

For sudden rang a thunder-shock

And flashed blue lightning-fork, to show

Beneath its grim and baleful glow,

Each flying girl turned to a rock!

Alas for Dian, who led the dance,

For Linnette, Bethkin, Jennifer,

Avisa, Petronell and Nance.

And now, at every Hunter's moon,

That haggard cirque of stones so still

Awakens to immortal thrill,

And seven small maids in silver shoon,

'Twixt dark of night and white of day,

Twinkle upon the sere, old heath,

Like living blossoms in a wreath,

Then shrink again to granite grey.

So blue-eyed Dian shall ever dance

With Linnette, Bethkin, Jennifer,

Avisa, Petronell and Nance.

THE HERON

Where leaps the burn by granite stairs

Into an eddying pool, he stood,

Personifying solitude

And meditating his affairs.

A bird august beyond belief

Distinguished in his way of thought,

Yet the sworn enemy of sport--

A "poacher," "vagabond," and "thief."

Creation's lord, the heron knew,

Denied his right to fish for trout--

A fact that often made him doubt

Of justice on a general view.

Then me he saw, and, guessing not

I held him innocent to be,

He spread slow pinions heavily