No More Learning

Weary in Well-Doing
Martyrs' Song
After this the Judgment
Good Friday
The Lowest Place

A PAGEANT AND OTHER POEMS.

The Key-Note
The Months: A Pageant
Pastime
"Italia, io ti saluto! "
Mirrors of Life and Death
A Ballad of Boding
Yet a little while
He and She
Monna Innominata
"Luscious and Sorrowful"
De Profundis
Tempus fugit
Golden Glories
Johnny
"Hollow-sounding and Mysterious"
Maiden May
Till To-morrow
Death-Watches
Touching "Never"
Brandons both
A Life's Parallels
At Last
Golden Silences
In the Willow Shade
Fluttered Wings
A Fisher-Wife
What's in a Name?
Mariana
Memento Mori
"One Foot on Sea, and one on Shore"
Buds and Babies
Boy Johnny
Freaks of Fashion
An October Garden
"Summer is ended"
Passing and Glassing
"I will arise"
A Prodigal Son
Soeur Louise de la Misericorde
An "immurata" Sister
"If Thou sayest, Behold, we knew it not"
The Thread of Life
An Old-World Thicket
"All Thy Works praise Thee, O Lord"
Later Life
"For Thine own Sake, O my God"
Until the Day break
"Of Him that was ready to perish"
"Behold the Man! "
The Descent from the Cross
"It is finished"
An Easter Carol
"Behold a shaking"
All Saints
"Take care of him"
A Martyr
Why?
"Love is strong as Death"
Birchington Churchyard
One Sea-side Grave
Brother Bruin
"A Helpmeet for him"
A Song of Flight
A Wintry Sonnet
Resurgam
To-day's Burden
"There is a Budding Morrow in Midnight"
Exultate Deo
A Hope Carol
Christmas Carols
A Candlemas Dialogue
Mary Magdalene and the other Mary
Patience of Hope




[Illustration: "_Buy from us with a golden curl_"]




GOBLIN MARKET.


Morning and evening
Maids heard the goblins cry:
"Come buy our orchard fruits,
Come buy, come buy:
Apples and quinces,
Lemons and oranges,
Plump unpecked cherries,
Melons and raspberries,
Bloom-down-cheeked peaches,
Swart-headed mulberries,
Wild free-born cranberries,
Crab-apples, dewberries,
Pine-apples, blackberries,
Apricots, strawberries;--
All ripe together
In summer weather,--
Morns that pass by,
Fair eves that fly;
Come buy, come buy:
Our grapes fresh from the vine,
Pomegranates full and fine,
Dates and sharp bullaces,
Rare pears and greengages,
Damsons and bilberries,
Taste them and try:
Currants and gooseberries,
Bright-fire-like barberries,
Figs to fill your mouth,
Citrons from the South,
Sweet to tongue and sound to eye;
Come buy, come buy. "

Evening by evening
Among the brookside rushes,
Laura bowed her head to hear,
Lizzie veiled her blushes:
Crouching close together
In the cooling weather,
With clasping arms and cautioning lips,
With tingling cheeks and finger-tips.
"Lie close," Laura said,
Pricking up her golden head:
"We must not look at goblin men,
We must not buy their fruits:
Who knows upon what soil they fed
Their hungry thirsty roots? "
"Come buy," call the goblins
Hobbling down the glen.
"O," cried Lizzie, "Laura, Laura,
You should not peep at goblin men. "
Lizzie covered up her eyes,
Covered close lest they should look;
Laura reared her glossy head,
And whispered like the restless brook:
"Look, Lizzie, look, Lizzie,
Down the glen tramp little men.
One hauls a basket,
One bears a plate,
One lugs a golden dish
Of many pounds' weight.
How fair the vine must grow
Whose grapes are so luscious;
How warm the wind must blow
Through those fruit bushes. "
"No," said Lizzie, "no, no, no;
Their offers should not charm us,
Their evil gifts would harm us.
"
She thrust a dimpled finger
In each ear, shut eyes and ran:
Curious Laura chose to linger
Wondering at each merchant man.
One had a cat's face,
One whisked a tail,
One tramped at a rat's pace,
One crawled like a snail,
One like a wombat prowled obtuse and furry,
One like a ratel tumbled hurry-scurry.
She heard a voice like voice of doves
Cooing all together:
They sounded kind and full of loves
In the pleasant weather.

Laura stretched her gleaming neck
Like a rush-imbedded swan,
Like a lily from the beck,
Like a moonlit poplar branch,
Like a vessel at the launch
When its last restraint is gone.

Backwards up the mossy glen
Turned and trooped the goblin men,
With their shrill repeated cry,
"Come buy, come buy. "
When they reached where Laura was
They stood stock still upon the moss,
Leering at each other,
Brother with queer brother;
Signalling each other,
Brother with sly brother.
One set his basket down,
One reared his plate;
One began to weave a crown
Of tendrils, leaves, and rough nuts brown
(Men sell not such in any town);
One heaved the golden weight
Of dish and fruit to offer her:
"Come buy, come buy," was still their cry.
Laura stared but did not stir,
Longed but had no money:
The whisk-tailed merchant bade her taste
In tones as smooth as honey,
The cat-faced purr'd,
The rat-paced spoke a word
Of welcome, and the snail-paced even was heard;
One parrot-voiced and jolly
Cried "Pretty Goblin" still for "Pretty Polly";--
One whistled like a bird.

But sweet-tooth Laura spoke in haste:
"Good folk, I have no coin;
To take were to purloin:
I have no copper in my purse,
I have no silver either,
And all my gold is on the furze
That shakes in windy weather
Above the rusty heather. "
"You have much gold upon your head,"
They answered altogether:
"Buy from us with a golden curl. "
She clipped a precious golden lock,
She dropped a tear more rare than pearl,
Then sucked their fruit globes fair or red:
Sweeter than honey from the rock,
Stronger than man-rejoicing wine,
Clearer than water flowed that juice;
She never tasted such before,
How should it cloy with length of use?
She sucked and sucked and sucked the more
Fruits which that unknown orchard bore;
She sucked until her lips were sore;
Then flung the emptied rinds away,
But gathered up one kernel stone,
And knew not was it night or day
As she turned home alone.

Lizzie met her at the gate
Full of wise upbraidings:
"Dear, you should not stay so late,
Twilight is not good for maidens;
Should not loiter in the glen
In the haunts of goblin men.
Do you not remember Jeanie,
How she met them in the moonlight,
Took their gifts both choice and many,
Ate their fruits and wore their flowers
Plucked from bowers
Where summer ripens at all hours?
But ever in the noonlight
She pined and pined away;
Sought them by night and day,
Found them no more, but dwindled and grew gray,
Then fell with the first snow,
While to this day no grass will grow
Where she lies low:
I planted daisies there a year ago
That never blow.
You should not loiter so.