UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 NO RTH CAROLINA 
 
 School of Library 
 
 S<sienoe 
 
 J80U81 
 Tees dale 
 
 187-93U 
 
 Rainbow gold 
 
UNIVERSITY OF N.C. AT CHAPEL HILL 
 
 00022229553 
 
 This BOOK may be kept out TWO WEEKS 
 ONLY, and is subject to a fine of I£PBE. 
 CENTS a day thereafter. It is DUE on the 
 DAY indicated below: 
 
 AUG 3 1 iss* 
 JY10'63 
 
 JYlS 
 
 64 
 
 ft AY 3 1366 
 MAR i 3 1967 
 
 APR i 8 
 NOV / 
 
 JAN t T?7? 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2012 with funding from 
 
 University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill 
 
 http://archive.org/details/rainbowgoldpoemsOOtea 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 
 
 NEW YORK • BOSTON • CHICAGO • DALLAS 
 ATLANTA • SAN FRANCISCO 
 
 MACMILLAN & CO.. Limited 
 
 LONDON • BOMBAY • CALCUTTA 
 MELBOURNE 
 
 THE MACMILLAN CO. OP CANADA. Ltd. 
 
 TORONTO 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 POEMS OLD AND NEW 
 
 SELECTED FOR BOYS AND GIRLS 
 
 By SARA TEASDALE 
 
 WITH ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 By DUGALD WALKER 
 
 iBteto |9orfc 
 THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 
 
 1926 
 
 All rights reserved 
 
COPTEIGHT, 1922, 
 
 By THE MACMILLAN CO. 
 
 Set up and published September, 1922 
 
 PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA BV 
 THE BERWICK U SMITH CO. 
 
LIBRARY UN1V OF 
 WRTH CAROLINA 
 J 
 
 SOB.K1 
 
 TO THE BEAUTIFUL MEMORY 
 
 OF MY FATHER 
 
 JOHN WARREN TEASDALE 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 PREFATORY NOTE 
 
 Every anthologist must adopt some plan for making selec- 
 tions. Mine has been very simple. I have made a small 
 collection of poems that would have pleased the child I used 
 to be and the boy who was my playmate. Above all things I 
 have striven to keep the book small, for the big books of 
 poetry on our shelves were always left to themselves. It 
 was the little books that became our intimate com- 
 panions. 
 
 To make a selection for boys and girls from the countless 
 riches of lyric poetry in our language, and to reduce that 
 selection to the contents of so small a book as this one, is 
 a grave task. It involves the exclusion on the grounds of 
 mere lack of space, of so much that one loves. I should have 
 liked to make a book of this size containing only Elizabethan 
 songs and early English ballads, another entirely devoted 
 to Georgian and Victorian poets, a third to living writers, 
 and a fourth to child-rhymes, parodies, nonsense verses and 
 
 15] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 the like. If the grown-up reader regrets omissions, I beg 
 him to be sympathetic toward the compiler, who has been a 
 prey to those same regrets constantly during the year in 
 which she has been at work on the book. Alas that a volume 
 cannot have the advantages of being both a big book and a 
 little one at the same time! 
 
 In selecting the poems for the girl and boy who used to be, 
 I have tried always to read with their eyes. I have been 
 guided from first to last by their enjoyment or their bore- 
 dom. The poems that they loved best had highly accented 
 rhythms, and took them into "a land of clear colors and 
 stories." They enjoyed certain sad poems as much as merry 
 ones, but meditative, moralistic and gloomy poems were 
 never read but once, if they were read at all. And I am glad 
 to say that poems full of sentimentality fared no better. I 
 have brought together much that has been written since they 
 were children, and boys and girls of to-day will find among 
 these poems many of the most enjoyable things in the book. 
 To mention only one recent poet that they would have loved, 
 Walter de la Mare, is to realize how much a child has missed 
 who does not possess his inimitable "Peacock Pie." 
 
 A child's enjoyment, as I said above, is what I have striven 
 for in this collection. We who have seen how poetry has 
 come to our rescue with its delight, its healing, and its new 
 courage in times of stress and sorrow, know that it is an 
 inestimable possession. We cannot come to the knowledge of 
 it too early. If we can have a clear personal realization while 
 we are children, that we love poetry, no amount of well- 
 
 [6] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 meaning but sometimes tactless and uninspired teaching of 
 it in schools and colleges can shake us in the knowledge of 
 that love. I remember that the first poem I was condemned 
 to learn by heart in school was "The Builders" by Longfel- 
 low. I say condemned, but it was not as a punishment. 
 Every child in the class had to learn it. It is one of the 
 poems that I am sure the poet himself would never have 
 given to a child to learn, beginning, as grown-up readers will 
 remember : 
 
 "All are Architects of Fate 
 Working in these walls of Time." 
 
 After committing the nine stanzas of this poem to memory, 
 it took me a long time to grow willing to read the stirring 
 things that the same poet has written, poems as interesting 
 as this one is humdrum. 
 
 But education is better managed now than then. Teachers 
 and parents alike have come to feel that the love of poetry 
 in general is more to be desired for children than the knowl- 
 edge of certain "well known" poems, no matter how good, 
 or even how great, these poems may be. Besides a more tact- 
 fully managed education in the schools, there are children's 
 rooms in the public libraries. I have wished many times 
 during the months spent in making this book, when visits to 
 these rooms were an inspiration, that I might have browsed 
 among the low shelves long ago in childhood, and talked with 
 the same delightful librarians. I should like to express my 
 thanks to these librarians, who have been so kind in various 
 
 [7] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 ways. I want especially to thank Annie Carroll Moore, Su- 
 pervisor of Work with Children in the New York Public 
 Library, who knows the heart of a child from long travelling 
 on "The Roads to Childhood." 
 
 In closing I shall quote briefly from the introduction by 
 Andrew Lang to his anthology for children, "The Blue Po- 
 etry Book," for he speaks my own thoughts better than I can 
 express them: "It does not appear to the Editor that poems 
 about children, or especially intended for children, are those 
 which a child likes best. A child's imaginative life is spent 
 in the unknown future, and in the romantic past. . . . 
 The poems written for and about children rather appeal to 
 the old, whose own childhood is now to them a distant fairy 
 world, as the man's life is to the child. . . . We make a 
 mistake when we 'write down' to children; still more do we 
 err when we tell a child not to read this or that because he 
 cannot understand it. He understands far more than we 
 give him credit for, but nothing that can harm him. The 
 half-understanding of it, too, the sense of a margin beyond, 
 as in a wood full of unknown glades and birds and flowers 
 unfamiliar, is a great part of a child's pleasure in reading. 
 . . . The child does not want everything to be explained. 
 In the unexplained is great pleasure." 
 
 A number of my friends have been kind in giving me the 
 names of poems that they liked best when they were chil- 
 dren. The small compass of the book has made it impossible 
 to use all of the poems suggested in this way, but it has been a 
 pleasure to include as many of them as I could. I want to 
 
 [8] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 acknowledge very gratefully my indebtedness for counsel 
 and suggestions to John Gould Fletcher, Vachel Lindsay, 
 Amy Lowell, Jessie B. Rittenhouse, Louis Untermeyer, Jean 
 Untermeyer, John Hall Wheelock and Marguerite Wilkin- 
 son. 
 
 Sara Teasdale 
 New York City, 1922 
 
 9] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 ACKNOWLEDGMENTS 
 
 Thanks are due the following publishers for permission to 
 include the poems enumerated below: 
 
 To Messrs. Constable & Co., for "Berries," "Jim Jay," and "Off the 
 Ground," by Walter de la Mare. 
 
 To Messrs. Doubleday, Page & Co., for "A Prayer," by Edwin Mark- 
 ham, and "O Captain! My Captain," by Walt Whitman. 
 
 To Messrs. Harper & Brothers for "When the Hounds of Spring," by 
 AlgernoD Charles Swinburne. 
 
 To Messrs. Henry Holt & Co., for "Good Hours," by Robert Frost; 
 and "Berries," "Jim Jay" and "Off the Ground" from "Peacock Pie," 
 by Walter de la Mare. 
 
 To Messrs. Houghton Mifflin Co., by whose permission and by special 
 arrangement with whom the following poems are included: "Fable," 
 by Ralph Waldo Emerson; "The Fountain," by James Russell Lowell; 
 "My Lost Youth," and "The Skeleton in Armor," by Henry Wadsworth 
 Longfellow; and "A Song for My Mother," by Anna Hempstead Branch. 
 
 To Mr. Alfred Knopf for "Nature's Friend," by William H. Davies. 
 
 To Messrs. Little, Brown & Co., for "The Snow," by Emily Dickinson. 
 
 To The Macmillan Co., for "The Fairies," and "The Lepracaun," 
 by William Allingham; "The Forsaken Merman," by Matthew Arnold; 
 "The Pied Piper of Hamelin," and "Song: The Year's at the Spring," 
 by Robert Browning; "The Terrible Robber Men," by Padraic Colum; 
 "Moon Folly," by Fannie Stearns Gifford; "Time, You Old Gipsy Man," 
 by Ralph Hodgson; "Sea Fever," by John Masefield; "A Christmas 
 
 [111 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 Carol," by Christina Rossetti; "The Song of Wandering Aengus," by 
 William Butler Yeats; and "The Ghosts of the Buffaloes," by Vachel 
 Lindsay. 
 
 To Messrs. Macmillan & Co., for "The Fairies," and "The Lepracaun," 
 by William Allingham; "The Forsaken Merman," by Matthew Arnold; 
 and "A Christmas Carol," by Christina Rossetti. 
 
 To The Poetry Bookshop for "Star-Talk," by Robert Graves. 
 
 To Messrs. Charles Scribner's Sons for "Song of the Chattahoochee," 
 by Sidney Lanier from "Poems of Sidney Lanier"; copyright 1884, 1891, 
 1918 by Mary D. Lanier, by permission of the publishers; and "Escape 
 at Bedtime," and "Romance," by Robert Louis Stevenson. 
 
 To Messrs. Frederick A. Stokes Co., for "Tree-Toad," by Hilda Conk- 
 ling; and "A Song of Sherwood," by Alfred Noyes, from his Collected 
 Poems, Volume I. 
 
 To the living poets who have generously allowed their 
 poems to appear in this book, the compiler expresses grate- 
 ful thanks. 
 
 [12] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 
 
 page 
 
 Kubla. Khan 
 
 Samuel Taylor Coleridge 
 
 19 
 
 Meg Merrilies 
 
 John Keats 
 
 22. 
 
 Berries 
 
 Walter de la Mare 
 
 24 
 
 Romance 
 
 Robert Louis Stevenson 
 
 28 
 
 Hymn of Pan 
 
 Percy Bysshe Shelley 
 
 29 
 
 Written in March 
 
 William Wordsworth 
 
 31 
 
 "When the Hounds of Spring" 
 
 Algernon Charles Swinburne 
 
 32 
 
 Song 
 
 Robert Browning 
 
 36 
 
 "Under the Greenwood Tree" 
 
 William Shakespeare 
 
 37 
 
 To Violets 
 
 Robert Herrick 
 
 38 
 
 On May Morning 
 
 John Milton 
 
 39 
 
 The Lepracaun 
 
 William Allingham 
 
 40 
 
 Hunting Song 
 
 Sir Walter Scott 
 
 44 
 
 The Lady of Shalott^- 
 
 Alfred Tennyson 
 
 46 
 
 Hymn to Diana 
 
 Ben Jonson 
 
 59 
 
 The Song of Wandering Aengus 
 
 William Butler Yeats 
 
 60 
 
 The Shepherd to His Love 
 
 Christopher Marlowe 
 
 62 
 
 Robin Hood and the Butcher 
 
 Author Unknown 
 
 64 
 
 A Sea Song 
 
 Allan Cunningham 
 
 72 
 
 Epitaph on a Hare 
 
 William Cowper 
 
 73 
 
 The Pilgrim 
 
 John Bunyan 
 
 76 
 
 Lullaby for Titania 
 
 William Shakespeare 
 
 78 
 
 Israfel 
 
 Edgar Allan Poe 
 
 82 
 
 Jaffar 
 
 Leigh Hunt 
 
 87 
 
 13 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 A Song of Sherwood 
 The Destruction of Sennacherib 
 Ivry 
 
 The Tiger 
 
 The Terrible Robber Men 
 Sir Patrick Spens 
 "Blow, Blow, Thou Winter Wind" 
 The Pied Piper of Hamelin 
 "Time, You Old Gipsy Man" 
 The Solitary Reaper 
 My Lost Youth 
 Battle Hymn of the Republic 
 Gathering Song of Donald Dhu 
 The Minstrel-Boy 
 Bannockburn 
 Fable 
 
 Good Hours 
 Winter 
 
 A Chanted Calendar 
 The Cloud 
 Bugle Song 
 The Forsaken Merman 
 Nurse's Song 
 To a Mouse 
 The Fairies 
 
 La Belle Dame Sans Merci 
 Spring 
 
 "I Wandered Lonely" 
 \ The Gay Gos-Hawk 
 An Old Song of Fairies 
 Moon Folly 
 Star-Talk 
 Jim Jay 
 
 Alfred Npyes 89 
 
 Lord Byron 92 
 Thomas Babington Macaulay 94 
 
 William Blake 98 
 
 Padraic Colum 100 
 
 Author Unknown 101 
 
 William Shakespeare 108 
 
 Robert Browning 109 
 
 Ralph Hodgson 124 
 
 William Wordsworth 128 
 Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 180 
 
 Julia Ward Howe 133 
 
 Sir Walter Scott 135 
 
 Thomas Moore 137 
 
 Robert Burns 138 
 
 Ralph Waldo Emerson 140 
 
 Robert Frost 141 
 
 William Shakespeare 142/ 
 
 Sydney Dobell 143 
 
 Percy Bysshe Shelley 145 
 
 Alfred Tennyson 151 
 
 Matthew Arnold i 152 
 
 William Blake 158 
 
 Robert Burns 159 
 
 William Allingham 162 
 
 John Keats 168 
 
 Thomas Nashe 175 
 
 William Wordsworth 176 
 
 Author Unknown 178 
 
 Author Unknown 186 
 
 Fannie Stearns Gijford 189 
 
 Robert Graves 193 
 
 Walter de la Mare 197. 
 
 [14] 
 
RAINBOW 
 
 GOLD 
 
 
 The Ghosts of the Buffaloes 
 
 Vachel Lindsay 
 
 199 
 
 A Christmas Carol 
 
 Christina Rossetti 
 
 203 
 
 Escape at Bedtime 
 
 Robert Louis Stevenson 
 
 205 
 
 Song of the Chattahoochee 
 
 Sidney Lanier 
 
 206 
 
 Sea Fever 
 
 John Masefield 
 
 211 
 
 Captain! My Captain! 
 
 Walt Whitman 
 
 212 
 
 The Snow 
 
 Emily Dickinson 
 
 214 
 
 A Song for My Mother 
 
 Anna Hempstead Branch 
 
 215 
 
 The Fountain 
 
 James Russell Lowell 
 
 217 
 
 Nature's Friend 
 
 William H. Davies 
 
 221 
 
 Tree-Toad 
 
 Hilda Conkling 
 
 223 
 
 An Ancient Christmas Carol 
 
 Author Unknown 
 
 225 
 
 An Old Christmas Carol 
 
 Author Unknown 
 
 226 
 
 King John and the Abbot of Canter- 
 
 
 
 bury 
 
 Author Unknown 
 
 228 
 
 The Sands of Dee 
 
 Charles Kingsley 
 
 234 
 
 Sister, Awake! 
 
 Author Unknown 
 
 236 
 
 The Skeleton in Armor 
 
 Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 237 
 
 By Bendemeer's Stream 
 
 Thomas Moore 
 
 244 
 
 A Prayer 
 
 Edwin Markham 
 
 245 
 
 Young Lochinvar 
 
 Sir Walter Scott 
 
 246 
 
 Off the Ground 
 
 Walter de la Mare 
 
 249 
 
 Auld Daddy Darkness 
 
 James Ferguson 
 
 256 
 
 See page 259, index of authors with dates ; 
 
 page 265, index of first lines. 
 
 
 U5] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 Kubla Khan 
 
 Samuel Taylor Coleridge 
 
 
 
 Frontispiece 
 
 "When the Hounds or Spring" 
 
 Algernon Charles Swinburne 
 
 i 33 
 
 The Lady of Shalott 
 
 Alfred Tennyson 
 
 51 
 
 Hymn to Diana 
 
 Ben Jonson 
 
 58 
 
 Robin Hood and the Butcher 
 
 Author Unknown 
 
 69 
 
 LuiiLABY FOB TlTANIA 
 
 William Shakespeare 
 
 79 
 
 IsBAFEIi 
 
 Edgar Allan Poe 
 
 83 
 
 Sib Patrick Spens 
 
 Author Unknown 
 
 105 
 
 "Time, You Old Gipsy Man" 
 
 Ralph Hodgson 
 
 125 
 
 The Cloud 
 
 Percy Bysshe Shelley 
 
 147 
 
 The Fairies 
 
 William Allingham 
 
 165 
 
 La Belle Dame Sans Merci 
 
 John Keats 
 
 169 
 
 Spring 
 
 Thomas Nashe 
 
 174 
 
 Moon Folly 
 
 Fannie Stearns Gifford 
 
 191 
 
 Star-Talk 
 
 Robert Graves 
 
 195 
 
 Sea Fever 
 
 John Masefield 
 
 210 
 
 The Fountain 
 
 James Russell Lowell 
 
 219 
 
 Off the Ground 
 
 Walter de la Mare 
 
 251 
 
 17 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 KUBLA KHAN 
 
 A Visio?i in a Dream 
 
 In Xanadu did Kubla Khan 
 A stately pleasure-dome decree: 
 Where Alph, the sacred river, ran 
 Through caverns measureless to man 
 
 Down to a sunless sea. 
 So twice five miles of fertile ground 
 With walls and towers were girdled round : 
 And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills 
 Where blossom'd many an incense-bearing tree; 
 And here were forests ancient as the hills, 
 Enfolding sunny spots of greenery. 
 
 But oh ! that deep romantic chasm which slanted 
 
 Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover! 
 
 A savage place ! as holy and enchanted 
 
 As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted 
 
 By woman wailing for her demon-lover ! 
 
 And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething 
 
 As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing, 
 
 A mighty fountain momently was forced : 
 
 Amid whose swift half -intermitted burst 
 
 Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail, 
 
 Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail; 
 
 And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever 
 
 [19] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 It flung up momently the sacred river. 
 Five miles meandering with a mazy motion 
 Through wood and dale the sacred river ran, 
 Then reach'd the caverns measureless to man, 
 And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean: 
 And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far 
 Ancestral voices prophesying war! 
 
 The shadow of the dome of pleasure 
 
 Floated midway on the waves; 
 
 Where was heard the mingled measure 
 
 From the fountain and the caves. 
 
 It was a miracle of rare device, 
 
 A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice! 
 
 A damsel with a dulcimer 
 
 In a vision once I saw: 
 
 It was an Abyssinian maid, 
 
 And on her dulcimer she played, 
 
 Singing of Mount Abora. 
 
 Could I revive within me 
 
 Her symphony and song, 
 
 To such a deep delight 'twould win me 
 
 That with music loud and long, 
 
 I would build that dome in air, 
 
 That sunny dome! Those caves of ice! 
 
 And all who heard should see them there 
 
 And all should cry, Beware! Beware! 
 
 His flashing eyes, his floating hair! 
 
 [20] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 Weave a circle round him thrice, 
 And close your eyes with holy dread 
 For he on honey-dew hath fed, 
 And drunk the milk of Paradise. 
 
 Samuel Taylor Coleridge 
 
 UU 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 MEG MERRILIES 
 
 OLd Meg she was a Gipsy, 
 And liv'd upon the Moors: 
 
 Her bed it was the brown heath turf, 
 And her house was out of doors. 
 
 22 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 Her apples were swart blackberries, 
 
 Her currants pods o' broom; 
 Her wine was dew of the wild white rose, 
 
 Her book a churchyard tomb. 
 
 Her Brothers were the craggy hills, 
 
 Her Sisters larchen trees — - 
 Alone with her great family 
 
 She liv'd as she did please. 
 
 No breakfast had she many a morn, 
 
 No dinner many a noon, 
 And 'stead of supper she would stare 
 
 Full hard against the Moon. 
 
 But every morn of woodbine fresh 
 
 She made her garlanding, 
 And every night the dark glen Yew 
 
 She wove, and she would sing. 
 
 And with her fingers old and brown 
 
 She plaited Mats o' Rushes, 
 And gave them to the Cottagers 
 
 She met among the Bushes. 
 
 Old Meg was brave as Margaret Queen 
 
 And tall as Amazon: 
 An old red blanket cloak she wore; 
 
 A chip hat had she on. 
 God rest her aged bones somewhere — 
 
 She died full long agone ! — John Keats 
 
 [23] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 BERRIES 
 
 There was an old woman 
 
 Went blackberry picking 
 Along the hedges 
 
 From Weep to Wicking. 
 Half a pottle — 
 
 No more she had got, 
 When out steps a Fairy 
 
 From her green grot; 
 And says, "Well, Jill, 
 
 Would 'ee pick *ee mo?" 
 And Jill, she curtseys, 
 
 And looks just so. 
 "Be off," says the Fairy, 
 
 "As quick as you can, 
 Over the meadows 
 
 To the little green lane, 
 That dips to the hayfields 
 
 Of Farmer Grimes: 
 I've berried those hedges 
 
 [24] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 A score of times; 
 Bushel on bushel 
 
 I'll promise 'ee, Jill, 
 This side of supper 
 
 If 'ee pick with a will." 
 She glints very bright, 
 
 And speaks her fair; 
 Then lo, and behold! 
 
 She has faded in air. 
 
 Be sure old Goodie 
 
 She trots betimes 
 Over the meadows 
 
 To Farmer Grimes. 
 And never was queen 
 
 With jewellery rich 
 As those same hedges 
 
 From twig to ditch; 
 Like Dutchmen's coffers, 
 
 Fruit, thorn, and flower — 
 They shone like William 
 
 And Mary's bower. 
 And be sure Old Goodie 
 
 Went back to Weep, 
 So tired with her basket 
 
 She scarce could creep. 
 When she comes in the dusk 
 
 To her cottage door, 
 
 1251 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 There's Towser wagging 
 
 As never before, 
 To see his Missus 
 
 So glad to be 
 Come from her fruit-picking 
 
 Back to he. 
 
 [26] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 And soon as next morning 
 
 Dawn was grey, 
 The pot on the hob 
 
 Was simmering away; 
 And all in a stew 
 
 And a hugger-mugger 
 Towser and Jill 
 
 A-boiling of sugar, 
 And the dark clear fruit 
 
 That from Faerie came, 
 For syrup and jelly 
 
 And blackberry jam. 
 
 Twelve jolly gallipots 
 
 Jill put by; 
 And one little teeny one, 
 
 One inch high; 
 And that she's hidden 
 
 A good thumb deep, 
 Half way over 
 
 From Wicking to Weep. 
 
 Walter de la Mare 
 
 [27] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 ROMANCE 
 
 I will make you brooches and toys for your delight 
 Of bird-song at morning and star-shine at night. 
 I will make a palace fit for you and me, 
 Of green days in forests and blue days at sea. 
 
 I will make my kitchen, and you shall keep your room, 
 Where white flows the river and bright blows the broom, 
 And you shall wash your linen and keep your body white 
 In rainfall at morning and dewfall at night. 
 
 And this shall be for music when no one else is near 
 The fine song for singing, the rare song to hear! 
 That only I remember, that only you admire, 
 Of the broad road that stretches and the roadside fire. 
 
 Robert Louis Stevenson 
 
 281 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 HYMN OF PAN 
 
 From the forests and highlands 
 
 We come, we come; 
 From the river-girt islands, 
 
 Where loud waves are dumb, 
 Listening to my sweet pipings. 
 
 The wind in the reeds and the rushes, 
 
 The bees on the bells of thyme, 
 The birds on the myrtle bushes, 
 The cicale above in the lime, 
 And the lizards below in the grass, 
 Were as silent as ever old Tmolus was, 
 Listening to my sweet pipings. 
 
 Liquid Peneus was flowing, 
 
 And all dark Tempe lay 
 In Pelion's shadow outgrowing 
 
 The light of the dying day, 
 
 [29] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 Speeded by my sweet pipings. 
 
 The Sileni, and Sylvans, and Fauns, 
 
 And the Nymphs of the woods and waves, 
 To the edge of the moist river-lawns, 
 And the brink of the dewy caves, 
 And all that did then attend and follow, 
 Were silent with love, as you now, Apollo, 
 With envy of my sweet pipings. 
 
 I sang of the dancing Stars, 
 
 I sang of the daedal Earth, 
 And of Heaven, and the giant wars, 
 And Love, and Death, and Birth. 
 And then I changed my pipings — 
 
 Singing how down the vale of Maenalus 
 
 I pursued a maiden, and clasped a reed: 
 Gods and men, we are all deluded thus; 
 
 It breaks in our bosom, and then we bleed. 
 All wept — as I think both ye now would, 
 If envy or age had not frozen your blood, 
 At the sorrow of my sweet pipings. 
 
 Percy Bysshe Shelley 
 
 30 1 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 WRITTEN IN MARCH 
 
 The Cock is crowing, 
 
 The stream is flowing, 
 
 The small birds twitter, 
 
 The lake doth glitter, 
 The green field sleeps in the sun; 
 
 The oldest and youngest 
 
 Are at work with the strongest; 
 
 The cattle are grazing, 
 
 Their heads never raising; 
 There are forty feeding like one! 
 
 Like an army defeated 
 
 The snow hath retreated, 
 
 And now doth fare ill 
 
 On the top of the bare hill; 
 The ploughboy is whooping — anon — anon 
 
 There's joy in the mountains; 
 
 There's life in the fountains; 
 
 Small clouds are sailing, 
 
 Blue sky prevailing; 
 The rain is over and gone! 
 
 William Wordsworil; 
 
 31] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 "WHEN THE HOUNDS OF SPRING" 
 
 When the hounds of spring are on winter's traces, 
 The mother of months in meadow or plain 
 
 Fills the shadows and windy places 
 With lisp of leaves and ripple of rain; 
 
 And the brown bright nightingale amorous 
 
 Is half assuaged for Itylus, 
 
 For the Thracian ships and the foreign faces, 
 The tongueless vigil, and all the pain. 
 
 Come with bows bent and with emptying of quivers, 
 
 Maiden most perfect, lady of light, 
 With a noise of winds and many rivers, 
 
 With a clamor of waters, and with might; 
 Bind on thy sandals, O thou most fleet, 
 Over the splendor and speed of thy feet; 
 For the faint east quickens, the wan west shivers, 
 
 Round the feet of the day and the feet of the night. 
 
 Where shall we find her, how shall we sing to her, 
 Fold our hands round her knees, and cling? 
 
 O that man's heart were as fire and could spring to her, 
 Fire, or the strength of the streams that spring! 
 
 For the stars and the winds are unto her 
 
 As raiment, as songs of the harp-player; 
 
 For the risen stars and the fallen cling to her, 
 And the southwest-wind and the west-wind sing. 
 
 [32] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 For winter's rains and ruins are over, 
 
 And all the season of snows and sins; 
 The days dividing lover and lover, 
 
 The light that loses, the night that wins; 
 And time remembered is grief forgotten, 
 And frosts are slain and flowers begotten, 
 And in green underwood and cover 
 
 Blossom by blossom the spring begins. . 
 
 Algernon Charles Swinburne 
 
 35] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 SONG 
 
 The year's at the spring, 
 And day's at the morn; 
 Morning's at seven; 
 The hill-side's dew-pearled; 
 The lark's on the wing; 
 The snail's on the thorn; 
 God's in His Heaven — 
 All's right with the world! 
 
 Robert Browning 
 
 36] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 UNDER THE GREENWOOD TREE" 
 
 Under the greenwood tree, 
 Who loves to lie with me, 
 And turn his merry note 
 Unto the sweet bird's throat, 
 Come hither, come hither, come hither: 
 Here shall he see 
 No enemy 
 But winter and rough weather. 
 
 Who doth ambition shun, 
 And loves to live i' the sun, 
 Seeking the food he eats, 
 And pleased with what he gets, 
 Come hither, come hither, come hither: 
 Here shall he see 
 No enemy 
 But winter and rough weather. 
 
 William Shakespeare 
 
 137; 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 TO VIOLETS 
 
 Welcome, maids of honor, 
 
 You do bring 
 
 In the Spring, 
 And wait upon her. 
 She has virgins many, 
 
 Fresh and fair; 
 
 Yet you are 
 More sweet than any. 
 
 You're the maiden posies, 
 
 And, so graced, 
 
 To be placed 
 'Fore damask roses. 
 Yet, though thus respected, 
 
 By and by 
 
 Ye do lie, 
 Poor girls, neglected. 
 
 Robert Herrick 
 
 38] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 ON MAY MORNING 
 
 Now the bright morning star, day's harbinger, 
 Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her 
 The flow'ry May, who from her green lap throws 
 The yellow cowslip, and the pale primrose. 
 Hail, bounteous May, that doth inspire 
 Mirth and youth and warm desire! 
 Woods and groves are of thy dressing, 
 Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing. 
 Thus we salute thee with our early song, 
 And welcome thee, and wish thee long. 
 
 John Milton 
 
 [39] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 THE LEPRACAUN 
 
 OK 
 
 FAIRY SHOEMAKER 
 
 Little Cowboy, what have you heard, 
 
 Up on the lonely rath's green mound? 
 Only the plaintive yellow bird 
 
 Sighing in sultry fields around, 
 Chary, chary, chary, chee-ee! — 
 Only the grasshopper and the beef — 
 "Tip-tap, rip-rap, 
 Tick-a-tack-too ! 
 Scarlet leather, sewn together, 
 This will make a shoe. 
 Left, right, pull it tight; 
 
 Summer days are warm; 
 Underground in winter, 
 Laughing at the storm! " 
 Lay your ear close to the hill. 
 Do you not catch the tiny clamour, 
 Busy click of elfin hammer, 
 Voice of the Lepracaun singing shrill 
 As he merrily plies his trade? 
 
 [40] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 He's a span 
 
 And a quarter in height. 
 Get him in sight, hold him tight, 
 And you're a made 
 Man! 
 
 You watch your cattle the summer day, 
 Sup on potatoes, sleep in the hay; 
 
 How would you like to roll in your carriage, 
 Look for a duchess's daughter in marriage? 
 Seize the Shoemaker — then you may! 
 "Big boots a-hunting, 
 Sandals in the hall, 
 White for a wedding-feast, 
 
 Pink for a ball. 
 This way, that way, 
 
 So we make a shoe; 
 Getting rich every stitch, 
 Tick-tack-too!" 
 Nine-and-ninety treasure-crocks 
 This keen miser-fairy hath, 
 Hid in mountains, woods and rocks, 
 Ruin and round-tow'r, cave and rath, 
 
 [41] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 And where the cormorants build; 
 From time of old 
 Guarded by him; 
 Each of them fill'd 
 Full to the brim 
 With gold! 
 
 I caught him at work one day, myself, 
 
 In the castle-ditch, where foxglove grows,- 
 A wrinkled, wizen'd, and bearded Elf, 
 Spectacles stuck on his pointed nose, 
 Silver buckles to his hose, 
 Leather apron — shoe in his lap — 
 "Rip-rap, tip-tap, 
 Tack-tack-too ! 
 (A grasshopper on my cap! 
 Away the moth flew!) 
 Buskins for a fairy prince, 
 
 Brogues for his son, — 
 Pay me well, pay me well, 
 When the job is done!" 
 The rogue was mine, beyond a doubt. 
 I stared at him; he stared at me; 
 'Servant, Sir!' 'Humph!' says he, 
 And pull'd a snuff-box out. 
 
 [421 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 He took a long pinch, look'd better pleased, 
 
 The queer little Lepracaun; 
 Offer'd the box with a whimsical grace, — 
 Pouf ! he flung the dust in my face, 
 And, while I sneezed, 
 Was gone! 
 
 William Allingham 
 
 [43] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 HUNTING SONG 
 
 Waken, lords and ladies gay! 
 On the mountain dawns the day; 
 All the jolly chase is here, 
 With hawk, and horse, and hunting spear! 
 Hounds are in their couples yelling, 
 Hawks are whistling, horns are knelling; 
 Merrily, merrily, mingle they, 
 'Waken, lords and ladies gay.' 
 
 Waken, lords and ladies gay ! 
 
 The mist has left the mountain grey, 
 
 Springlets in the dawn are steaming, 
 
 Diamonds on the brake are gleaming; 
 
 And foresters have busy been, 
 
 To track the buck in thicket green; 
 
 Now we come to chant our lay, 
 
 'Waken, lords and ladies gay.' 
 
 Waken, lords and ladies gay! 
 To the greenwood haste away; 
 We can show you where he lies, 
 Fleet of foot, and tall of size; 
 We can show the marks he made, 
 When 'gainst the oak his antlers fray'd; 
 You shall see him brought to bay — 
 'Waken, lords and ladies gay.' 
 
 [441 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 Louder, louder chant the lay, 
 
 Waken, lords and ladies gay ! 
 
 Tell them youth, and mirth, and glee, 
 
 Run a course as well as we; 
 
 Time, stern huntsman! who can baulk, 
 
 Stanch as hound, and fleet as hawk? 
 
 Think of this, and rise with day, 
 
 Gentle lords and ladies gay! 
 
 Sir Walter Scott 
 
 l«] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 THE LADY OF SHALOTT 
 
 Part I 
 
 On either side the river lie 
 Long fields of barley and of rye, 
 That clothe the wold and meet the sky; 
 And through the field the road runs by 
 
 To many-towered Camelot; 
 And up and down the people go, 
 Gazing where the lilies blow 
 Round an island there below, 
 
 The island of Shalott. 
 
 Willows whiten, aspens quiver, 
 Little breezes dusk and shiver 
 Through the wave that runs for ever 
 By the island in the river 
 
 Flowing down to Camelot. 
 
 [461 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 Four gray walls, and four gray towers, 
 Overlook a space of flowers, 
 And the silent isle embowers 
 The Lady of Shalott. 
 
 By the margin, willow-veiled, 
 Slide the heavy barges trailed 
 By slow horses; and unhailed 
 The shallop flitteth silken-sailed 
 
 Skimming down to Camelot: 
 But who hath seen her wave her hand? 
 Or at the casement seen her stand? 
 Or is she known in all the land, 
 
 The Lady of Shalott? 
 
 Only reapers, reaping early 
 In among the bearded barley, 
 Hear a song that echoes cheerly 
 From the river winding clearly, 
 
 Down to towered Camelot: 
 And by the moon the reaper weary, 
 Piling sheaves in uplands airy, 
 Listening, whispers " 'Tis the fairy 
 
 Lady of Shalott." 
 
 47] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 Part II 
 
 There she weaves by night and day 
 A magic web with colors gay. 
 She has heard a whisper say, 
 A curse is on her if she stay 
 
 To look down to Camelot. 
 She knows not what the curse may be, 
 And so she weaveth steadily, 
 And little other care hath she, 
 
 The Lady of Shalott. 
 
 And moving through a mirror clear 
 That hangs before her all the year, 
 Shadows of the world appear. 
 There she sees the highway near 
 
 Winding down to Camelot: 
 There the river eddy whirls, 
 
 148] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 And there the surly village-churls, 
 And the red cloaks of market-girls, 
 Pass onward from Shalott. 
 
 Sometimes a troop of damsels glad, 
 An abbot on an ambling pad, 
 Sometimes a curly shepherd-lad, 
 Or long-haired page in crimson clad, 
 
 Goes by to towered Camelot; 
 And sometimes through the mirror blue 
 The knights come riding two and two: 
 She hath no loyal knight and true, 
 
 The Lady of Shalott. 
 
 But in her web she still delights 
 To weave the mirror's magic sights, 
 For often through the silent nights 
 A funeral, with plumes and lights 
 
 And music, went to Camelot: 
 Or when the moon was overhead, 
 Came two young lovers lately wed; 
 "I am half sick of shadows," said 
 
 The Lady of Shalott. 
 
 [49] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 Part III 
 
 A bow-shot from her bower-eaves, 
 He rode between the barley-sheaves, 
 The sun came dazzling through the leaves 
 And flamed upon the brazen greaves 
 
 Of bold Sir Lancelot. 
 A red-cross knight for ever kneeled 
 To a lady in his shield, 
 That sparkled on the yellow field, 
 
 Beside remote Shalott. 
 
 The gemmy bridle glittered free, 
 Like to some branch of stars we see 
 Hung in the golden Galaxy. 
 The bridle bells rang merrily 
 
 As he rode down to Camelot; 
 And from his blazoned baldric slung 
 
 [50 J 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 A mighty silver bugle hung, 
 And as he rode his armor rung, 
 Beside remote Shalott. 
 
 All in the blue unclouded weather 
 Thick-jeweled shone the saddle-leather, 
 The helmet and the helmet-feather 
 Burned like one burning flame together, 
 
 As he rode down to Camelot; 
 As often through the purple night, 
 Below the starry clusters bright, 
 Some bearded meteor, trailing light, 
 
 Moves over still Shalott. 
 
 His broad clear brow in sunlight glowed; 
 On burnished hooves his war-horse trode; 
 From underneath his helmet flowed 
 His coal-black curls as on he rode, 
 
 As he rode down to Camelot. 
 From the bank and from the river 
 He flashed into the crystal mirror, 
 "Tirra lirra," by the river 
 
 Sang Sir Lancelot. 
 
 She left the web, she left the loom, 
 She made three paces through the room, 
 She saw the water-lily bloom, 
 She saw the helmet and the plume, 
 She looked down to Camelot. 
 
 [531 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 Out flew the web and floated wide; 
 The mirror cracked from side to side; 
 "The curse is come upon me!" cried 
 The Lady of Shalott. 
 
 Part IV 
 
 In the stormy east-wind straining, 
 The pale yellow woods were waning, 
 The broad stream in his banks complaining, 
 Heavily the low sky raining 
 
 Over towered Camelot; 
 Down she came and found a boat 
 Beneath a willow left afloat, 
 And round about the prow she wrote 
 
 The Lady of Shalott. 
 
 And down the river's dim expanse- 
 Like some bold seer in a trance, 
 
 [541 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 Seeing all his own mischance — 
 With a glassy countenance 
 
 Did she look to Camelot. 
 And at the closing of the day 
 She loosed the chain, and down she lay; 
 The broad stream bore her far away, 
 
 The Lady of Shalott. 
 
 Lying, robed in snowy white 
 That loosely flew to left and right — 
 The leaves upon her falling light — 
 Through the noises of the night 
 
 She floated down to Camelot: 
 And as the boat-head wound along 
 The willowy hills and fields among, 
 They heard her singing her last song, 
 
 The Lady of Shalott. 
 
 Heard a carol, mournful, holy, 
 Chanted loudly, chanted lowly, 
 Till her blood was frozen slowly, 
 And her eyes were darkened wholly, 
 
 Turned to towered Camelot; 
 For ere she reached upon the tide 
 The first house by the water-side, 
 Singing in her song she died, 
 
 The Lady of Shalott. 
 
 [551 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 Under tower and balcony, 
 
 By garden-wall and gallery, 
 
 A gleaming shape she floated by, 
 
 Dead-pale between the houses high, 
 
 Silent into Camelot. 
 Out upon the wharfs they came, 
 Knight and burgher, lord and dame, 
 And round the prow they read her name, 
 
 The Lady of Shalott. 
 
 Who is this? and what is here? 
 And in the lighted palace near 
 Died the sound of royal cheer; 
 And they crossed themselves for fear, 
 
 All the knights at Camelot: 
 But Lancelot mused a little space; 
 He said, "She has a lovely face; 
 God in His mercy lend her grace, 
 
 The Lady of Shalott." 
 
 Alfred Tennyson 
 
 56] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 HYMN TO DIANA 
 
 Queen and Huntress, chaste and fair, 
 
 Now the sun is laid to sleep, 
 Seated in thy silver chair, 
 
 State in wonted manner keep: 
 Hesperus entreats thy light, 
 Goddess excellently bright. 
 
 Earth, let not thy envious shade 
 
 Dare itself to interpose; 
 Cynthia's shining orb was made 
 
 Heav'n to clear, when day did close: 
 Bless us then with wished sight, 
 Goddess excellently bright. 
 
 Lay thy bow of pearl apart 
 
 And thy crystal shining quiver; 
 Give unto the flying hart 
 
 Space to breathe, how short soever: 
 Thou that mak'st a day of night, 
 Goddess excellently bright. 
 
 Ben Jonson 
 
 [59] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 THE SONG OF WANDERING AENGUS 
 
 I went out to the hazel wood, 
 Because a fire was in my head, 
 And cut and peeled a hazel wand, 
 And hooked a berry to a thread; 
 And when white moths were on the wing, 
 And moth-like stars were flickering out, 
 I dropped the berry in a stream 
 And caught a little silver trout. 
 
 When I had laid it on the floor 
 I went to blow the fire a-flame, 
 But something rustled on the floor, 
 And some one called me by my name: 
 It had become a glimmering girl 
 With apple blossom in her hair 
 Who called me by my name and ran 
 And faded through the brightening air. 
 
 Though I am old with wandering 
 Through hollow lands and hilly lands, 
 I will find out where she has gone, 
 And kiss her lips and take her hands; 
 And walk among long dappled grass, 
 And pluck till time and times are done, 
 
 [60] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 The silver apples of the moon, 
 The golden apples of the sun. 
 
 William Butler Yeats 
 
 61] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 THE SHEPHERD TO HIS LOVE 
 
 Come live with me and be my love, 
 And we will all the pleasures prove 
 That hills and vallies, dales and fields, 
 And woods or steepy mountain yields. 
 
 And we will sit upon the rocks, 
 Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks 
 By shallow rivers to whose falls 
 Melodious birds sing madrigals. 
 
 And I will make thee beds of roses 
 And a thousand fragrant posies, 
 A cap of flowers, and a kirtle 
 Embroider 'd all with leaves of myrtle. 
 
 A gown made of the finest wool, 
 Which from our pretty lambs we pull, 
 Fair-lined slippers for the cold, 
 With buckles of the purest gold. 
 
 A belt of straw and ivy-buds 
 With coral clasps and amber studs, 
 An' if these pleasures may thee move, 
 Come live with me, and be my love. 
 
 Thy silver dishes for thy meat 
 As precious as the gods do eat, 
 
 [62] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 Shall on an ivory table be 
 Prepar'd each day for thee and me. 
 
 The shepherd-swains shall dance and sing 
 For thy delight each May-morning: 
 If these delights thy mind may move, 
 Then live with me, and be my love. 
 
 Christopher Marlowe 
 
 [63] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 ROBIN HOOD AND THE BUTCHER 
 
 Come, all you brave gallants, and listen a while, 
 With hey down, down, an a down, 
 That are in the bowers within; 
 For of Robin Hood, that archer good, 
 A song I intend for to sing. 
 
 Upon a time it chanced so 
 
 Bold Robin in forrest did spy 
 A jolly butcher, with a bonny fine mare, 
 
 With his flesh to the market did hye. 
 
 'Good morrow, good fellow,' said jolly Robin, 
 
 'What food hast? tell unto me; 
 And thy trade to me tell, and where thou dost dwell, 
 
 For I like well thy company. ' 
 
 The butcher he answered jolly Robin: 
 
 'No matter where I dwell; 
 For a butcher I am, and to Notingham 
 
 I am going, my flesh to sell.' 
 
 [64] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 'What is the price of thy flesh?' said jolly Robin, 
 
 'Come tell it soon unto me; 
 And the price of thy mare, be she never so dear, 
 
 For a butcher fain would I be. ' 
 
 'The price of my flesh,' the butcher repli'd, 
 
 'I soon will tell unto thee; 
 With my bonny mare, and they are not dear, 
 
 Four mark thou must give unto me.' 
 
 'Four mark I will give thee,' saith jolly Robin, 
 
 'Four mark it shall be thy fee; 
 Thy mony come count, and let me mount, 
 
 For a butcher I fain would be.' 
 
 Now Robin he is to Notingham gone, 
 
 His butcher's trade for to begin; 
 With good intent, to the sheriff he went, 
 
 And there he took up his inn. 
 
 When other butchers they opened their meat, 
 
 Bold Robin he then begun; 
 But how for to sell he knew not well, 
 
 For a butcher he was but young. 
 
 When other butchers no meat could sell, 
 
 Robin got both gold and fee; 
 For he sold more meat for one peny 
 
 Than others could do for three. 
 
 [65] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 But when he sold his meat so fast, 
 
 No butcher by him could thrive; 
 Por he sold more meat for one peny 
 
 Than others could do for five. 
 
 Which made the butchers of Notingham 
 
 To study as they did stand, 
 Saying, surely he was some prodigal, 
 
 That had sold his father's land. 
 
 The butchers they stepped to jolly Robin, 
 Acquainted with him for to be; 
 
 * Come, brother, ' one said, ' we be all of one trade, 
 
 Come, will you go dine with me?' 
 
 * Accurst of his heart, ' said jolly Robin, 
 
 'That a butcher doth deny; 
 I will go with you my brethren true, 
 And as fast as I can hie.' 
 
 But when to the sheriff's house they came, 
 
 To dinner they hied apace, 
 And Robin he the man must be 
 
 Before them all to say grace. 
 
 'Pray God bless us all,' said jolly Robin, 
 
 'And our meat within this place; 
 A cup of sack so good will nourish our blood, 
 
 And so I do end my grace. 
 
 [661 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 'Come fill us more wine,' said jolly Robin, 
 'Let us merry be while we do stay; 
 
 For wine and good cheer, be it never so dear, 
 I vow I the reckning will pay. 
 
 'Come, brothers, be merry,' said jolly Robin, 
 'Let us drink, and never give ore; 
 
 For the shot I will pay, ere I go my way, 
 If it cost me five pounds and more.' 
 
 'This is a mad blade,' the butchers then said; 
 
 Saies the sheriff, ' He is some prodigal, 
 That some land has sold, for silver and gold, 
 
 And now he doth mean to spend all. 
 
 'Hast thou any horn-beasts,' the sheriff repli'd, 
 
 'Good fellow, to sell unto me?' 
 'Yes, that I have, good Master Sheriff, 
 
 I have hundreds two or three. 
 
 'And a hundred aker of good free land, 
 
 If you please it to see; 
 And I'le make you as good assurance of it 
 
 As ever my father made me.' 
 
 The sheriff he saddled a good palfrey, 
 With three hundred pound in gold, 
 
 And away he went with bold Robin Hood, 
 His horned beasts to behold. 
 
 167] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 Away then the sheriff and Robin did ride, 
 
 To the forrest of merry Sherwood; 
 Then the sheriff did say, ' God bless us this day 
 
 From a man they call Robin Hood ! ' 
 
 But when that a little further they came, 
 
 Bold Robin he chanced to spy 
 A hundred head of good red deer, 
 
 Come tripping the sheriff full nigh. 
 
 'How like you my hornd beasts, good Master Sheriff? 
 
 They be fat and fair for to see:' 
 'I tell thee, good fellow, I would I were gone, 
 
 For I like not thy company.' 
 
 Then Robin he set his horn to his mouth, 
 
 And blew but blasts three; 
 Then quickly anon there came Little John, 
 
 And all his company. 
 
 'What is your will?' then said little John, 
 
 'Good master come tell it to me;* 
 'I have brought hither the sheriff of Notingham, 
 
 This day to dine with thee.' 
 
 'He is welcome to me,' then said Little John, 
 
 *I hope he will honestly pay; 
 I know he has gold, if it be but well told, 
 
 Will serve us to drink a whole day.' 
 
 [68] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 Then Robin took his mantle from his back, 
 
 And laid it upon the ground, 
 And out of the sherinVs portmantle 
 
 He told three hundred pound. 
 
 The Robin he brought him thorow the wood, 
 And set him on his dapple gray: 
 
 'O have me commended to your wife at home;' 
 So Robin went laughing away. 
 
 Author Unknown 
 
 IT1J 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 A SEA SONG 
 
 A wet sheet and a flowing sea, 
 
 A wind that follows fast, 
 And fills the white and rustling sail, 
 
 And bends the gallant mast; 
 And bends the gallant mast, my boys, 
 
 While, like the eagle free, 
 Away the good ship flies, and leaves 
 
 Old England on the lee. 
 
 O for a soft and gentle wind! 
 
 I heard a fair one cry; 
 But give to me the snoring breeze 
 
 And white waves heaving high; 
 And white waves heaving high, my boys, 
 
 The good ship tight and free — 
 The world of waters is our home, 
 
 And merry men are we. 
 
 There's tempest in yon horned moon, 
 
 And lightning in yon cloud; 
 And hark the music, mariners! 
 
 The wind is piping loud; 
 The wind is piping loud, my boys, 
 
 The lightning flashes free — 
 While the hollow oak our palace is, 
 
 Our heritage the sea. 
 
 Allan Cunningham 
 
 [72] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 EPITAPH ON A HARE 
 
 Here lies, whom hound did ne'er pursue, 
 Nor swifter greyhound follow, 
 
 Whose foot ne'er tainted morning dew, 
 Nor ear heard huntsman's hallo; 
 
 Old Tiney, surliest of his kind, 
 Who, nursed with tender care, 
 
 And to domestic bounds confined, 
 Was still a wild Jack-hare. 
 
 Though duly from my hand he took 
 
 His pittance every night, 
 He did it with a jealous look, 
 
 And, when he could, would bite. 
 
 His diet was of wheaten bread, 
 And milk, and oats, and straw; 
 
 Thistles, or lettuces instead, 
 With sand to scour his maw. 
 
 On twigs of hawthorn he regaled, 
 
 On pippins' russet peel; 
 And, when his juicy salads failed, 
 
 Sliced carrot pleased him well. 
 
 A Turkey carpet was his lawn, 
 Whereon he loved to bound, 
 
 [73] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 To skip and gambol like a fawn, 
 And swing his rump around. 
 
 His frisking was at evening hours, 
 
 For then he lost his fear; 
 But most before approaching showers, 
 
 Or when a storm drew near. 
 
 Eight years and five round-rolling moons 
 
 He thus saw steal away, 
 Dozing out all his idle noons, 
 
 And every night at play. 
 
 I kept him for his humor's sake, 
 
 For he would oft beguile 
 My heart of thoughts that made it ache, 
 
 And force me to a smile. 
 
 But now, beneath this walnut-shade 
 
 He finds his long, last home, 
 And waits, in snug concealment laid, 
 
 Till gentler Puss shall come. 
 
 [741 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 He, still more aged, feels the shocks 
 From which no care can save, 
 
 And, partner once of Tiney's box, 
 Must soon partake his grave. 
 
 William Cowper 
 
 (75] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 THE PILGRIM 
 
 From "The Pilgrim's Progress" 
 
 Who would true valor see, 
 
 Let him come hither! 
 One here will constant be, 
 
 Come wind, come weather; 
 There's no discouragement 
 Shall make him once relent 
 His first-avowed intent 
 To be a Pilgrim. 
 
 Whoso beset him round 
 With dismal stories, 
 
 Do but themselves confound; 
 His strength the more is. 
 
 No lion can him fright; 
 
 He'll with a giant fight; 
 
 But he will have a right 
 To be a Pilgrim. 
 
 Hobgoblin, nor foul fiend, 
 Can daunt his spirit; 
 
 He knows he at the end 
 Shall Life inherit: — 
 
 Then, fancies, fly away; 
 
 [76] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 He'll not fear what men say; 
 He'll labor night and day, 
 To be a Pilgrim. 
 
 John Bunyan 
 
 177J 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 LULLABY FOR TITANIA 
 
 First Fairy 
 
 You spotted snakes with double tongue, 
 Thorny hedgehogs, be not seen; 
 
 Newts, and blind-worms, do no wrong; 
 Come not near our fairy queen. 
 
 Chorus 
 
 Philomel with melody 
 
 Sing in our sweet lullaby! 
 Lulla, lulla, lullaby; lulla, lulla, lullaby! 
 Never harm, nor spell, nor charm, 
 
 Come our lovely lady nigh ! 
 
 So good-night, with lullaby. 
 
 Second Fairy 
 
 Weaving spiders, come not here; 
 
 Hence, you long-legg'd spinners, hence; 
 Beetles black, approach not near; 
 
 Worm, nor snail, do no offence. 
 
 Chorus 
 
 Philomel with melody 
 Sing in our sweet lullaby; 
 
 178] 
 
• 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 Lulla, lulla, lullaby; lulla, lulla, lullaby! 
 Never harm, nor spell, nor charm, 
 
 Come our lofely lady nigh! 
 
 So good-night, with lullaby. 
 
 William Shakespeare 
 
 181] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 ISRAFEL 
 
 And the angel Israfel, whose heart-strings are a lute, and who has the 
 sweetest voice of all God's creatures. — Koran. 
 
 In Heaven a spirit doth dwell 
 Whose heart-strings are a lute; 
 
 None sing so wildly well 
 
 As the Angel Israfel, 
 
 And the giddy stars (so legends tell), 
 
 Ceasing their hymns, attend the spell 
 Of his voice, all mute. 
 
 Tottering above 
 
 In her highest noon, 
 
 The enamoured moon 
 Blushes with love, 
 
 While, to listen, the red levin 
 
 (With the rapid Pleiads, even, 
 
 Which were seven) 
 
 Pauses in Heaven. 
 
 And they say (the starry choir 
 And the other listening things) 
 
 That Israfeli's fire 
 
 Is owing to that lyre 
 
 By which he sits and sings, 
 
 The trembling living wire 
 Of those unusual strings. 
 
 182] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 But the skies that angel trod, 
 Where deep thoughts are a duty, 
 
 Where Love's a grown-up God, 
 
 Where the Houri glances are 
 Imbued with all the beauty 
 
 Which we worship in a star. 
 
 Therefore thou art not wrong, 
 
 Israfeli, who despisest 
 An unimpassioned song; 
 To thee the laurels belong, 
 
 Best bard, because the wisest: 
 Merrily live, and long! 
 
 The ecstasies above 
 
 With thy burning measures suit: 
 
 Thy grief, thy joy, thy hate, thy love, 
 With the fervor of thy lute : 
 Well may the stars be mute! 
 
 Yes, Heaven is thine; but this 
 Is a world of sweets and sours; 
 Our flowers are merely — flowers, 
 
 And the shadow of thy perfect bliss 
 Is the sunshine of ours. 
 
 If I could dwell 
 Where Israfel 
 
 [85] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 Hath dwelt, and he where I, 
 He might not sing so wildly well 
 
 A mortal melody, 
 While a bolder note than this might swell 
 
 From my lyre within the sky. 
 
 Edgar Allan Poe 
 
 186] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 JAFFAR 
 
 Jaffar, the Barmecide, the good Vizier, 
 
 The poor man's hope, the friend without a peer, 
 
 Jaffar was dead, slain by a doom unjust; 
 
 And guilty Haroun, sullen with mistrust 
 
 Of what the good, and e'en the bad, might say, 
 
 Ordained that no man living from that day 
 
 Should dare to speak his name on pain of death. 
 
 All Araby and Persia held their breath; 
 
 All but the brave Mondeer: he, proud to show 
 
 How far for love a grateful soul could go, 
 
 And facing death for very scorn and grief 
 
 (For his great heart wanted a great relief), 
 
 Stood forth in Bagdad daily, in the square 
 
 Where once had stood a happy house, and there 
 
 Harangued the tremblers at the scimitar 
 
 On all they owed to the divine Jaffar. 
 
 "Bring me this man," the caliph cried. The man 
 
 Was brought, was gazed upon. The mutes began 
 
 To bind his arms. "Welcome, brave cords," cried he; 
 
 "From bonds far worse Jaffar delivered me; 
 
 From wants, from shames, from loveless household fears; 
 
 Made a man's eyes friends with delicious tears; 
 
 Restored me, loved me, put me on a par 
 
 With his great self. How can I pay Jaffar?" 
 
 [87] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 Haroun, who felt that on a soul like this 
 The mightiest vengeance could but fall amiss, 
 Now deigned to smile, as one great lord of fate 
 Might smile upon another half as great. 
 He said, "Let worth grow frenzied if it will; 
 The caliph's judgment shall be master still. 
 Go: and since gifts so move thee, take this gem, 
 The richest in the Tartar's diadem, 
 And hold the giver as thou deemest fit!" 
 
 "Gifts!" cried the friend; he took, and holding it 
 High toward the heavens, as though to meet his star, 
 Exclaimed, "This, too, I owe to thee, Jaffar!" 
 
 Leigh Hunt 
 
 t88] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 A SONG OF SHERWOOD 
 
 Sherwood in the twilight, is Robin Hood awake? 
 Gray and ghostly shadows are gliding through the brake; 
 Shadows of the dappled deer, dreaming of the morn, 
 Dreaming of a shadowy man that winds a shadowy horn. 
 
 Robin Hood is here again: all his merry thieves 
 
 Hear a ghostly bugle-note shivering through the leaves, 
 
 Calling as he used to call, faint and far away, 
 
 In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day. 
 
 Merry, merry England has kissed the lips of June : 
 All the wings of fairyland were here beneath the moon; 
 Like a flight of rose-leaves fluttering in a mist 
 Of opal and ruby and pearl and amethyst. 
 
 Merry, merry England is waking as of old, 
 
 With eyes of blither hazel and hair of brighter gold: 
 
 For Robin Hood is here again beneath the bursting spray 
 
 In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day. 
 
 Love is in the greenwood building him a house 
 Of wild rose and hawthorn and honeysuckle boughs: 
 Love is in the greenwood: dawn is in the skies; 
 And Marian is waiting with a glory in her eyes. 
 
 Hark! The dazzled laverock climbs the golden steep: 
 Marian is waiting: is Robin Hood asleep? 
 
 [891 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 Round the fairy grass-rings frolic elf and fay, 
 
 In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day. 
 
 Oberon, Oberon, rake away the gold, 
 Rake away the red leaves, roll away the mould, 
 Rake away the gold leaves, roll away the red, 
 And wake Will Scarlett from his leafy forest bed. 
 
 Friar Tuck and Little John are riding down together 
 With quarter-staff and drinking-can and gray goose-feather; 
 The dead are coming back again; the years are rolled away 
 In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day. 
 
 Softly over Sherwood the south wind blows; 
 
 All the heart of England hid in every rose 
 
 Hears across the greenwood the sunny whisper leap, 
 
 Sherwood in the red dawn, is Robin Hood asleep? 
 
 Hark, the voice of England wakes him as of old 
 And, shattering the silence with a cry of brighter gold, 
 Bugles in the greenwood echo from the steep, 
 Sherwood in the red dawn, is Robin Hood asleep? 
 
 Where the deer are gliding down the shadowy glen 
 All across the glades of fern he calls his merry men; 
 Doublets of the Lincoln green glancing through the May 
 In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day; 
 
 [901 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 alls them and they answer: from aisles of oak and ash 
 lings the Follow! Follow! and the boughs begin to crash; 
 lie ferns begin to flutter and the flowers begin to fly; 
 Lnd through the crimson dawning the robber band goes by. 
 
 lobin! Robin! Robin! All his merry thieves 
 Answer as the bugle-note shivers through the leaves: 
 ailing as he used to call, faint and far away, 
 n Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day. 
 
 Alfred Noyes 
 
 191] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 THE DESTRUCTION OF SENNACHERIB 
 
 (710 b. c.) 
 
 The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, 
 And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold; 
 And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea, 
 When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee. 
 
 Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green, 
 That host with their banners at sunset were seen: 
 Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown, 
 That host on the morrow lay withered and strown. 
 
 For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast, 
 And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed: 
 And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill, 
 And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still! 
 
 And there lay the steed with his nostrils all wide, 
 But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride; 
 And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf, 
 And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf. 
 
 And there lay the rider distorted and pale, 
 With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail; 
 And the tents were all silent, the banners alone, 
 The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown. 
 
 [92] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail, 
 And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal; 
 And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword, 
 Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord! 
 
 Lord Byron 
 
 198] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 IVRY 
 
 (March 14, 1590) 
 
 Now glory to the Lord of Hosts, from whom all glories are 
 And glory to our Sovereign Liege, King Henry of Navarre 
 Now let there be the merry sound of music and of dance, 
 Through thy corn-fields green, and sunny vines, oh pleasan 
 
 land of France! 
 And thou, Rochelle, our own Rochelle, proud city of the 
 
 waters, 
 
 Again let rapture light the eyes of all thy mourning daughters 
 As thou wert constant in our ills, be joyous in our joy; 
 For cold, and stiff, and still are they who wrought thy walls 
 
 annoy. 
 
 Hurrah ! hurrah ! a single field hath turned the chance of war, 
 Hurrah! hurrah! for Ivry and Henry of Navarre. 
 
 Oh ! how our hearts were beating, when, at the dawn of day, 
 We saw the army of the League drawn out in long array; 
 With all its priest-led citizens, and all its rebel peers, 
 And Appenzel's stout infantry and Egmont's Flemish 
 
 spears. 
 
 There rode the brood of false Lorraine, the curses of our land; 
 And dark Mayenne was in the midst, a truncheon in his hand; 
 And, as we looked on them, we thought of Seine's empurpled 
 
 flood, 
 And good Coligni's hoary hair all dabbled with his blood; 
 
 [941 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 And we cried unto the living God, who rules the fate of war, 
 To fight for His own holy name, and Henry of Navarre. 
 
 The King is come to marshal us, in all his armor dressed; 
 And he has bound a snow-white plume upon his gallant crest. 
 He looked upon his people, and a tear was in his eye; 
 He looked upon the traitors, and his glance was stern 
 
 and high. 
 Right graciously he smiled on us, as rolled from wing to 
 
 wing, 
 Down all our line, a deafening shout: "God save our Lord 
 
 the King!" 
 "And if my standard-bearer fall, as fall full well he may, 
 For never saw I promise yet of such a bloody fray, 
 Press where ye see my white plume shine, amidst the ranks 
 
 of war, 
 And be your oriflamme today the helmet of Navarre." 
 
 Hurrah! the foes are moving. Hark to the mingled din, 
 Of fife, and steed, and trump, and drum, and roaring culverin. 
 The fiery Duke is pricking fast across Saint Andre's plain, 
 With all the hireling chivalry of Guelders and Almayne. 
 Now by the lips of those ye love, fair gentlemen of France, 
 Charge for the golden lilies, — upon them with the lance! 
 A thousand spurs are striking deep, a thousand spears in rest, 
 A thousand knights are pressing close behind the snow-white 
 crest; 
 
 [951 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 And in they burst, and on they rushed, while, like a guiding 
 
 star, 
 Amidst the thickest carnage blazed the helmet of Navarre. 
 
 Now, God be praised, the day is ours. Mayenne hath turned 
 
 his rein; 
 
 D'Aumale hath cried for quarter; the Flemish count is slain. 
 Their ranks are breaking like thin clouds before a Biscay 
 
 gale; 
 The field is heaped with bleeding steeds, and flags, and cloven 
 
 mail. 
 
 And then we thought on vengeance, and, all along our van, 
 "Remember Saint Bartholomew!" was passed from man to 
 
 man. 
 
 But out spake gentle Henry, "No Frenchman is my foe: 
 Down, down with every foreigner, but let your brethren go." 
 Oh! was there ever such a knight, in friendship or in war, 
 As our Sovereign Lord, King Henry, the soldier of 
 
 Navarre? .... 
 
 Ho! maidens of Vienna; ho! matrons of Lucerne; 
 
 Weep, weep, and rend your hair for those who never shall 
 return. 
 
 Ho! Philip, send, for charity, thy Mexican pistoxes, 
 
 That Antwerp monks may sing a mass for thy poor spear- 
 men's souls. 
 
 Ho! gallant nobles of the League, look that your arms be 
 bright; 
 
 [961 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 lo ! burghers of St. Genevieve, keep watch and ward to-night ; 
 ?or our God hath crushed the tyrant, our God hath raised 
 
 the slave, 
 And mocked the counsel of the wise, and the valor of the 
 
 brave. 
 
 Then glory to His holy name, from whom all glories are; 
 And glory to our Sovereign Lord, King Henry of Navarre! 
 
 Thomas Babington Macaulay 
 
 [971 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 THE TIGER 
 
 Tiger! Tiger! burning bright, 
 In the forests of the night, 
 What immortal hand or eye 
 Could frame thy fearful symmetry? 
 
 In what distant deeps or skies 
 Burnt the fire of thine eyes? 
 On what wings dare he aspire? 
 What the hand dare seize the fire? 
 
 And what shoulder, and what art, 
 Could twist the sinews of thy heart? 
 And when thy heart began to beat, 
 What dread hand and what dread feet? 
 
 What the hammer? what the chain? 
 In what furnace was thy brain? 
 What the anvil? What dread grasp 
 Dare its deadly terrors clasp? 
 
 When the stars threw down their spears, 
 And watered heaven with their tears, 
 Did He smile His work to see? 
 Did He who made the Lamb, make thee? 
 
 [98] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 Tiger! Tiger! burning bright, 
 In the forests of the night, 
 What immortal hand or eye 
 Dare frame thy fearful symmetry? 
 
 William Blake 
 
 199]' 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 THE TERRIBLE ROBBER MEN 
 
 O ! I wish the sun was bright in the sky, 
 And the fox was back in his den, O! 
 
 For always I'm hearing the passing by 
 Of the terrible robber men, O ! 
 The terrible robber men. 
 
 O ! what does the fox carry over the rye 
 When it's bright in the morn again, O! 
 
 And what is it making the lonesome cry 
 With the terrible robber men, O! 
 The terrible robber men. 
 
 O! I wish the sun was bright in the sky, 
 And the fox was back in his den, O ! 
 
 For always I'm hearing the passing by 
 Of the terrible robber men, O! 
 The terrible robber men. 
 
 Padraic Colum 
 
 [100] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 SIR PATRICK SPENS 
 
 The king sits in Dunfermline toun, 
 Drinking the blude-red wine: 
 
 *0 whare will I get a skeely skipper 
 To sail this new ship of mine?' 
 
 O up and spake an eldern knight, 
 Sat at the king's right knee — 
 
 'Sir Patrick Spens is the best sailor 
 That ever sailed the sea.' 
 
 Our king has written a braid letter, 
 And sealed it with his hand, 
 
 And sent it to Sir Patrick Spens, 
 Was walking on the strand. 
 
 'To Noroway, to Noroway, 
 To Noroway o'er the faem; 
 
 The king's daughter of Noroway, 
 ' Tis thou maun bring her hame.' 
 
 The first word that Sir Patrick read, 
 Sae loud loud laughed he; 
 
 The neist word that Sir Patrick read, 
 The tear blinded his e'e. 
 
 'O wha is this has done this deed, 
 And tauld the king o' me, 
 [ion 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 To send us out, at this time of the year, 
 To sail upon the sea?' 
 
 *Be it wind, be it weet, be it hail, be it sleet, 
 
 Our ship must sail the faem; 
 The king's daughter of Noroway, 
 
 'Tis we must fetch her hame.' 
 
 They hoysed their sails on Monenday morn, 
 
 Wi' a' the speed they may; 
 And they hae landed in Noroway 
 
 Upon a Wedensday. 
 
 They hadna been a week, a week 
 
 In Noroway but twae, 
 When that the lords o' Noroway 
 
 Began aloud to say: 
 
 'Ye Scottishmen spend a' our king's gowd, 
 
 And a' our queenis fee.' 
 'Ye lie, ye lie, ye liars loud! 
 
 Fu' loud I hear ye lie! 
 
 'For I hae brought as much white monie 
 
 As gane my men and me — 
 And I hae brought a half-fou' o' gude red gowd 
 
 Out o'er the sea wi' me. 
 
 1102] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 'Make ready, make ready, my merry men a'! 
 
 Our gude ship sails the morn.' 
 'Now ever alake, my master dear, 
 
 I fear a deadly storm ! 
 
 'I saw the new moon, late yestreen, 
 
 Wi' the auld moon in her arm; 
 And if we gang to sea, master, 
 
 I fear we'll come to harm.' 
 
 They hadna sail'd a league, a league, 
 
 A league but barely three, 
 When the lift grew dark, and the wind blew loud, 
 
 And gurly grew the sea. 
 
 The ankers brak, and the top-masts lap, 
 
 It was sic a deadly storm; 
 And the waves cam' o'er the broken ship 
 
 Till a' her sides were torn. 
 
 'O where will I get a gude sailor, 
 
 To take my helm in hand, 
 Till I get up to the tall top-mast; 
 
 To see if I can spy land?' 
 
 'O here am I, a sailor gude, 
 
 To take the helm in hand, 
 Till ye get up to the tall top-mast: 
 
 But I fear you'll ne'er spy land.' 
 
 [103] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 He hadna gane a step, a step, 
 
 A step but barely ane, 
 When a bout flew out of our goodly ship, 
 
 And the salt sea it came in. 
 
 'Gae, fetch a web o' the silken claith, 
 
 Another o' the twine, 
 And wap them into our ship's side, 
 
 And letna the sea come in.' 
 
 They fetch'd a web o' the silken claith, 
 
 Another o' the twine, 
 And they wapped them round that gude ship's 
 side, 
 
 But still the sea came in. 
 
 O laith laith were our gude Scots lords 
 
 To wet their cork-heeled shoon! 
 But lang ere a' the play was play'd 
 
 They wat their hats aboon. 
 
 And mony was the feather-bed 
 
 That floated on the faem, 
 And mony was the gude lord's son 
 
 That never mair came hame. 
 
 The ladyes wrang their fingers white — 
 The maidens tore their hair; 
 
 [104] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 A' for the sake of their true loves — 
 For them they'll see na mair. 
 
 O lang lang may the ladyes sit, 
 Wi' their fans into their hand, 
 
 Before they see Sir Patrick Spens 
 Come sailing to the strand ! 
 
 And lang lang may the maidens sit, 
 Wi' the goud kaims in their hair, 
 
 A' waiting for their ain dear loves — 
 For them they'll see na mair. 
 
 O forty miles off Aberdour, 
 
 ' Tis fifty fathoms deep, 
 And there lies gude Sir Patrick Spens, 
 
 Wi' the Scots lords at his feet. 
 
 Author Unknown 
 
 11071 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 "BLOW, BLOW, THOU WINTER WIND" 
 
 Blow, blow, thou winter wind, 
 Thou are not so unkind 
 
 As man's ingratitude; 
 Thy tooth is not so keen, 
 Because thou art not seen, 
 
 Although thy breath be rude. 
 Heigh-ho! sing heigh-ho! unto the green holly; 
 Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly; 
 
 Then, heigh-ho ! the holly ! 
 
 This life is most jolly ! 
 
 Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky, 
 Thou dost not bite so nigh 
 
 As benefits forgot: 
 Though thou the waters warp, 
 Thy sting is not so sharp 
 
 As friend remembered not. 
 Heigh-ho! sing heigh-ho! unto the green holly 
 Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly; 
 Then, heigh-ho, the holly! 
 This life is most jolly ! 
 
 William Shakespeare 
 
 [108] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 THE PIED PIPER OF HAMELIN 
 
 (A Child's Story) 
 
 Hamelin Town's in Brunswick, 
 
 By famous Hanover city; 
 
 The river Weser, deep and wide, 
 Washes its wall on the southern side; 
 A pleasanter spot you never spied; 
 
 But, when begins my ditty, 
 Almost five hundred years ago, 
 To see the townsfolk suffer so 
 
 From vermin was a pity. 
 
 II 
 
 Rats! 
 They fought the dogs and killed the cats 
 And bit the babies in the cradles, 
 
 [109] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 And ate the cheeses out of the vats, 
 
 And licked the soup from the cook's own ladles 
 Split open the kegs of salted sprats, 
 Made nests inside men's Sunday hats, 
 And even spoiled the women's chats 
 By drowning their speaking 
 With shrieking and squeaking 
 In fifty different sharps and flats. 
 
 Ill 
 
 At last the people in a body 
 
 To the Town Hall came flocking: 
 " 'Tis clear," cried they, "our Mayor's a noddy 
 
 And as for our Corporation, — shocking 
 To think we buy gowns lined with ermine 
 For dolts that can't or won't determine 
 What's best to rid us of our vermin! 
 You hope, because you're old and obese, 
 To find in the furry civic robe ease? 
 Rouse up, sirs! Give your brains a racking, 
 To find the remedy we're lacking, 
 Or, sure as fate, we'll send you packing!" 
 At this the Mayor and Corporation 
 Quaked with a mighty consternation. 
 
 IV 
 
 An hour they sat in council, — 
 
 At length the Mayor broke silence: 
 
 [1101 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 "For a guilder I'd my ermine gown sell; 
 
 I wish I were a mile hence! 
 It's easy to bid one rack one's brain, — 
 I'm sure my poor head aches again, 
 I've scratched it so, and all in vain. 
 Oh for a trap, a trap, a trap!" 
 Just as he said this, what should hap 
 At the chamber-door but a gentle tap? 
 "Bless us," cried the Mayor, "what's that?" 
 (With the Corporation as he sat, 
 Looking little though wondrous fat; 
 Nor brighter was his eye, nor moister 
 Than a too-long-opened oyster, 
 Save when at noon his paunch grew mutinous 
 For a plate of turtle green and glutinous) 
 "Only a scraping of shoes on the mat? 
 Anything like the sound of a rat 
 Makes my heart go pit-a-pat!" 
 
 "Come in!" the Mayor cried, looking bigger: 
 And in did come the strangest figure! 
 His queer long coat from heel to head 
 Was half of yellow and half of red, 
 And he himself was tall and thin, 
 With sharp blue eyes, each like a pin, 
 And light loose hair, yet swarthy skin, 
 [in] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 No tuft on cheek, nor beard on chin, 
 But lips where smiles went out and in; 
 There was no guessing his kith and kin: 
 And nobody could enough admire 
 The tall man and his quaint attire. 
 Quoth one: "It's as my great-grandsire, 
 Starting up at the Trump of Doom's tone, 
 Had walked this way from his painted 
 tombstone!" 
 
 VI 
 
 He advanced to the council-table: 
 
 And, "Please your honors," said he, "I'm able, 
 
 By means of a secret charm to draw 
 
 All creatures living beneath the sun, 
 
 That creep or swim or fly or run, 
 
 After me so as you never saw! 
 
 And I chiefly use my charm 
 
 On creatures that do people harm, 
 
 The mole and toad and newt and viper; 
 
 And people call me the Pied Piper." 
 
 (And here they noticed round his neck 
 
 A scarf of red and yellow stripe, 
 
 To match with his coat of the self -same check, 
 
 And at the scarf's end hung a pipe; 
 
 And his fingers, they noticed, were ever straying 
 
 As if impatient to be playing 
 
 Upon this pipe as low it dangled 
 
 [112] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 Over his vesture so old-fangled. ) 
 
 "Yet," said he, "poor piper as I am, 
 
 In Tartary I freed the Cham, 
 
 Last June, from his huge swarms of gnats; 
 
 I eased in Asia the Nizam 
 
 Of a monstrous brood of vampire-bats; 
 
 And as for what your brain bewilders, — 
 
 If I can rid your town of rats, 
 
 Will you give me a thousand guilders?" 
 
 "One? fifty thousand!" was the exclamation 
 
 Of the astonished Mayor and Corporation. 
 
 [ns] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 VII 
 
 Into the street the Piper stepped, 
 
 Smiling first a little smile, 
 As if he knew what magic slept 
 
 In his quiet pipe the while; 
 Then, like a musical adept, 
 To blow the pipe his lips he wrinkled, 
 And green and blue his sharp eyes twinkled, 
 Like a candle-flame where salt is sprinkled; 
 And ere three shrill notes the pipe uttered, 
 You heard as if an army muttered; 
 And the muttering grew to a grumbling; 
 And the grumbling grew to a mighty rumbling; 
 And out of the houses the rats came tumbling. 
 Great rats, small rats, lean rats, brawny rats, 
 Brown rats, black rats, gray rats, tawny rats, 
 Grave old plodders, gay young friskers, 
 
 Fathers, mothers, uncles, cousins, 
 Cocking tails and pricking whiskers; 
 
 Families by tens and dozens, 
 Brothers, sisters, husbands, wives, — 
 Followed the Piper for their lives. 
 From street to street he piped advancing, 
 And step for step they followed dancing, 
 Until they came to the river Weser, 
 Wherein all plunged and perished ! 
 — Save one who, stout as Julius Caesar, 
 
 [114] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 Swam across and lived to carry 
 
 (As he, the manuscript he cherished) 
 
 To Rat-land home his commentary, 
 
 Which was: "At the first shrill notes of the pipe, 
 
 I heard the sound as of scraping tripe, 
 
 And putting apples, wondrous ripe, 
 
 Into a cider-press's gripe, — 
 
 And a moving away of pickle-tub-boards, 
 
 And a leaving ajar of conserve-cupboards, 
 
 And a drawing the corks of train-oil-flasks, 
 
 And a breaking the hoops of butter-casks; 
 
 And it seemed as if a voice 
 
 (Sweeter far than by harp or by psaltery 
 
 Is breathed) called out 'Oh rats, rejoice! 
 
 The world is grown to one vast drysaltery! 
 
 So munch on, crunch on, take your nuncheon, 
 
 Breakfast, supper, dinner, luncheon!' 
 
 And just as a bulky sugar-puncheon, 
 
 Already staved, like a great sun shone 
 
 Glorious scarce an inch before me, 
 
 Just as methought it said, 'Come, bore me!' — 
 
 I found the Weser rolling o'er me." 
 
 [115] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 VIII 
 
 You should have heard the Hamelin people 
 Ringing the bells till they rocked the steeple; 
 "Go," cried the Mayor, "and get long poles! 
 Poke out the nests and block up the holes! 
 Consult with carpenters and builders, 
 And leave in our town not even a trace 
 Of the rats!" — when suddenly, up the face 
 Of the Piper perked in the market-place, 
 With a "First, if you please, my thousand 
 guilders!" 
 
 IX 
 
 A thousand guilders! the Mayor looked blue; 
 So did the Corporation too. 
 For council-dinners made rare havoc 
 With Claret, Moselle, Vin-de-Grave, Hock; 
 And half the money would replenish 
 Their cellar's biggest butt with Rhenish. 
 To pay this sum to a wandering fellow 
 With a gypsy coat of red and yellow! 
 "Beside," quoth the Mayor, with a knowing 
 
 wink, 
 "Our business was done at the river's brink; 
 We saw with our eyes the vermin sink, 
 And what's dead can't come to life, I think. 
 So, friend, we're not the folks to shrink 
 
 [116] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 From the duty of giving you something to drink, 
 
 And a matter of money to put in your poke; 
 
 But as for the guilders, what we spoke 
 
 Of them, as you very well know, was in joke. 
 
 Beside, our losses have made us thrifty; 
 
 A thousand guilders ! Come, take fifty ! " 
 
 The Piper's face fell, and he cried, 
 
 "No trifling! I can't wait! beside, 
 
 I've promised to visit by dinner time 
 
 Bagdat, and accept the prime 
 
 Of the Head Cook's pottage, all he's rich in, 
 
 For having left, in the Caliph's kitchen, 
 
 Of a nest of scorpions no survivor; 
 
 With him I proved no bargain-driver; 
 
 With you, don't think I'll bate a stiver! 
 
 And folks who put me in a passion 
 
 May find me pipe after another fashion." 
 
 [117] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 XI 
 
 "How?" cried the Mayor, "d'ye think I brook 
 
 Being worse treated than a Cook? 
 
 Insulted by a lazy ribald 
 
 With idle pipe and vesture piebald? 
 
 You threaten us, fellow? Do your worst, 
 
 Blow your pipe there till you burst!" 
 
 XII 
 
 Once more he stepped into the street; 
 
 And to his lips again 
 Laid his long pipe of smooth straight cane; 
 
 And ere he blew three notes (such sweet 
 Soft notes as yet musician's cunning 
 Never gave the enraptured air) 
 There was a rustling that seemed like a bustlin 
 Of merry crowds justling at pitching and hust 
 ling; 
 
 [118] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 Small feet were pattering, wooden shoes 
 
 clattering, 
 Little hands clapping, and little tongues chat- 
 tering; 
 And, like fowls in a farm-yard when barley is 
 
 scattering, 
 Out came the children running: 
 All the little boys and girls, 
 With rosy cheeks and flaxen curls, 
 And sparkling eyes and teeth like pearls, 
 Tripping and skipping, ran merrily after 
 The wonderful music with shouting and 
 laughter. 
 
 XIII 
 
 The Mayor was dumb, and the Council stood 
 As if they were changed into blocks of wood, 
 Unable to move a step, or cry 
 To the children merrily skipping by, — 
 And could only follow with the eye 
 That joyous crowd at the Piper's back. 
 But how the Mayor was on the rack, 
 And the wretched Council's bosoms beat, 
 As the Piper turned from the High Street 
 To where the Weser rolled its waters 
 Right in the way of their sons and daughters ! 
 However, he turned from south to west, 
 And to Koppelberg Hill his steps addressed, 
 
 [1191 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 And after him the children pressed; 
 
 Great was the joy in every breast. 
 
 "He never can cross that mighty top! 
 
 He's forced to let the piping drop, 
 
 And we shall see our children stop!" 
 
 When, lo, as they reached the mountain-side, 
 
 A wondrous portal opened wide, 
 
 As if a cavern was suddenly hollowed; 
 
 And the Piper advanced and the children followed; 
 
 And when all were in, to the very last, 
 
 The door in the mountain-side shut fast. 
 
 Did I say, all? No! One was lame, 
 
 And could not dance the whole of the way; 
 
 And in after years, if you would blame 
 
 His sadness, he was used to say, — 
 
 "It's dull in our town since my playmates left! 
 
 I can't forget that I am bereft 
 
 Of all the pleasant sights they see, 
 
 Which the Piper also promised me; 
 
 For he led us, he said, to a joyous land, 
 
 Joining the town and just at hand, 
 
 Where waters gushed, and fruit-trees grew, 
 
 And flowers put forth a fairer hue, 
 
 And everything was strange and new; 
 
 The sparrows were brighter than peacocks here, 
 
 And their dogs outran our fallow deer, 
 
 And honey-bees had lost their stings, 
 
 And horses were born with eagles' wings ; 
 
 [1201 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 And just as I became assured 
 
 My lame foot would be speedily cured, 
 
 The music stopped and I stood still, 
 
 And found myself outside the hill, 
 
 Left alone against my will, 
 
 To go now limping as before, 
 
 And never hear of that country more!" 
 
 XIV 
 
 Alas, alas for Hamelin! 
 
 There came into many a burgher's pate 
 
 A text which says that heaven's gate 
 
 Opes to the rich at as easy rate 
 As the needle's eye takes a camel in! 
 The Mayor sent East, West, North and South, 
 To offer the Piper, by word of mouth, 
 
 Wherever it was men's lot to find him, 
 Silver and gold to his heart's content, 
 If he'd only return the way he went, 
 
 And bring the children behind him. 
 But when they saw 'twas a lost endeavor, 
 And piper and dancers were gone forever, 
 They made a decree that lawyers never 
 
 Should think their records dated duly 
 If, after the day of the month and year, 
 These words did not as well appear, 
 "And so long after what happened here 
 [121] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 On the Twenty-second of July, 
 Thirteen hundred and seventy-six:" 
 And the better in memory to fix 
 The place of the children's last retreat, 
 They called it, the Pied Piper Street — 
 Where any one playing on pipe or tabor 
 Was sure for the future to lose his labor. 
 Nor suffered they hostelry or tavern 
 
 To shock with mirth a street so solemn; 
 But opposite the place of the cavern 
 
 They wrote the story on a column, 
 And on the great church-window painted 
 The same, to make the world acquainted 
 How their children were stolen away, 
 And there it stands to this very day. 
 And I must not omit to say 
 That in Transylvania there's a tribe 
 Of alien people who ascribe 
 The outlandish ways and dress 
 On which their neighbors lay such stress, 
 To their fathers and mothers having risen 
 Out of some subterraneous prison 
 Into which they were trepanned 
 Long time ago in a mighty band 
 Out of Hamelin town in Brunswick land, 
 But how or why, they don't understand. 
 
 [122] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 XV 
 
 So, Willy, let me and you be wipers 
 
 Of scores out with all men — especially pipers ! 
 
 And, whether they pipe us free from rats or 
 
 from mice, 
 If we've promised them aught, let us keep our 
 
 promise 
 
 Robert Browning 
 
 123 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 TIME, YOU OLD GIPSY MAN : 
 
 Time, you old gipsy man, 
 Will you not stay, 
 Put up your caravan 
 Just for one day? 
 
 All things I'll give you 
 Will you be my guest, 
 Bells for your jennet 
 Of silver the best, 
 Goldsmiths shall beat you 
 A great golden ring, 
 Peacocks shall bow to you, 
 Little boys sing, 
 Oh, and sweet girls will 
 Festoon you with may. 
 Time, you old gipsy, 
 Why hasten away? 
 
 Last week in Babylon, 
 Last night in Rome, 
 Morning, and in the crush 
 Under Paul's dome; 
 Under Paul's dial 
 You tighten your rein — 
 Only a moment, 
 And off once again; 
 
 [124] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 Off to some city 
 
 Now blind in the womb, 
 
 Off to another 
 
 Ere that's in the tomb. 
 
 Time, you old gipsy man, 
 Will you not stay, 
 Put up your caravan 
 Just for one day? 
 
 Ralph Hodgson 
 
 1127] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 THE SOLITARY REAPER 
 
 Behold her, single in the field, 
 Yon solitary Highland Lass ! 
 Reaping and singing by herself; 
 Stop here, or gently pass! 
 Alone she cuts and binds the grain, 
 And sings a melancholy strain; 
 O listen! for the Vale profound 
 Is overflowing with the sound. 
 
 No Nightingale did ever chaunt 
 More welcome notes to weary bands 
 Of travellers in some shady haunt, 
 Among Arabian sands: 
 A voice so thrilling ne'er was heard 
 In spring-time from the Cuckoo-bird 9 
 Breaking the silence of the seas 
 Among the farthest Hebrides. 
 
 Will no one tell me what she sings? — 
 
 Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow 
 
 For old, unhappy, far-off things, 
 
 And battles long ago : 
 
 Or is it some more humble lay, 
 
 Familiar matter of to-day? 
 
 Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain, 
 
 That has been, and may be again? 
 
 [128] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 Whate'er the theme, the Maiden sang 
 As if her song could have no ending; 
 I saw her singing at her work, 
 And o'er the sickle bending; — 
 I listened, motionless and still; 
 And, as I mounted up the hill 
 The music in my heart I bore, 
 Long after it was heard no more. 
 
 William Wordsworth 
 
 [129] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 MY LOST YOUTH 
 
 Often I think of the beautiful town 
 
 That is seated by the sea; 
 Often in thought go up and down 
 The pleasant streets of that dear old town, 
 And my youth comes back to me. 
 And a verse of a Lapland song 
 Is haunting my memory still : 
 "A boy's will is the wind's will, 
 And the thoughts of youth, are long, long thoughts. 
 
 I can see the shadowy lines of its trees, 
 
 And catch, in sudden gleams, 
 The sheen of the far-surrounding seas, 
 And islands that were the Hesperides 
 Of all my boyish dreams. 
 
 And the burden of that old song, 
 It murmurs and whispers still : 
 "A boy's will is the wind's will, 
 And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts." 
 
 I remember the black wharves and the slips, 
 
 And the sea-tides tossing free; 
 And Spanish sailors with bearded lips, 
 And the beauty and mystery of the ships, 
 
 And the magic of the sea. 
 
 [130] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 And the voice of that wayward song 
 Is singing and saying still: 
 "A boy's will is the wind's will, 
 And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts." 
 
 I remember the bulwarks by the shore, 
 
 And the fort upon the hill; 
 The sunrise gun, with its hollow roar, 
 The drum-beat repeated o'er and o'er, 
 And the bugle wild and shrill. 
 And the music of that old song 
 Throbs in my memory still: 
 "A boy's will is the wind's will, 
 And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts." 
 
 I remember the sea-fight far away, 
 How it thundered o'er the tide! 
 And the dead captains, as they lay 
 In their graves, o'erlooking the tranquil bay 
 Where they in battle died. 
 
 And the sound of that mournful song 
 Goes through me with a thrill: 
 "A boy's will is the wind's will, 
 And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts." 
 
 I can see the breezy dome of groves, 
 The shadows of Deering's Woods; 
 And the friendships old and the early loves 
 
 [1311 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 Come back with a Sabbath sound, as of doves 
 In quiet neighborhoods. 
 
 And the verse of that sweet old song, 
 
 It flutters and murmurs still: 
 
 "A boy's will is the wind's will, 
 And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts." 
 
 I remember the gleams and glooms that dart 
 
 Across the school-boy's brain; 
 The song and the silence in the heart, 
 That in part are prophecies, and in part 
 
 Are longings wild and vain. 
 
 And the voice of that fitful song 
 
 Sings on, and is never still: 
 
 "A boy's will is the wind's will, 
 And the thoughts of youth are long, long 
 
 thoughts." .... 
 
 Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 
 
 [132] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 BATTLE-HYMN OF THE REPUBLIC 
 
 Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord; 
 He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath 
 
 are stored; 
 He hath loosed the fateful lighting of His terrible swift 
 
 sword; 
 
 His truth is marching on. 
 
 I have seen Him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling 
 
 camps; 
 They have builded Him an altar in the evening dews and 
 
 damps; 
 I can read his righteous sentence by the dim and flaring 
 
 lamps; 
 
 His day is marching on. 
 
 I have read a fiery gospel, writ in burnished rows of steel: 
 "As ye deal with my contemners, so with you my grace 
 
 shall deal; 
 Let the Hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with his 
 
 heel, 
 
 Since God is marching on." 
 
 He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call 
 
 retreat; 
 He is sifting out the hearts of men before His judgment-seat: 
 Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer Him! be jubilant, my feet! 
 Our God is marching on. 
 
 [1331 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea, 
 With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me: 
 As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free, 
 While God is marching on. 
 
 Julia Ward Howe 
 
 (134] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 GATHERING SONG OF DONALD DHU 
 
 Pibroch of Donuil Dhu, 
 
 Pibroch of Donuil, 
 Wake thy wild voice anew, 
 
 Summon Clan Conuil. 
 Come away, come away, 
 
 Hark to the summons! 
 Come in your war-array, ' 
 
 Gentles and commons. 
 
 Come from deep glen, and 
 
 From mountain so rocky, 
 The war-pipe and pennon 
 
 Are at Inverlochy. 
 Come every hill-plaid, and 
 
 True heart that wears one, 
 Come every steel blade, and 
 
 Strong hand that bears one. 
 
 Leave untended the herd, 
 
 The flock without shelter; 
 Leave the corpse uninterr'd, 
 
 The bride at the altar; 
 Leave the deer, leave the steer, 
 
 Leave nets and barges: 
 Come with your fighting gear, 
 
 Broadswords and targes. 
 
 [135] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 Come as the winds come, when 
 
 Forests are rended; 
 Come as the waves come, when 
 
 Navies are stranded: 
 Faster come, faster come, 
 
 Faster and faster, 
 Chief, vassal, page and groom, 
 
 Tenant and master. 
 
 Fast they come, fast they come; 
 
 See how they gather! 
 Wide waves the eagle plume 
 
 Blended with heather. 
 Cast your plaids, draw your blades, 
 
 Forward each man set! 
 Pibrooh of Donuil Dhu 
 
 Knell for the onset! 
 
 Sir Walter Scott 
 
 136 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 THE MINSTREL-BOY 
 
 The Minstrel-boy to the war is gone, 
 
 In the ranks of death you'll find him; 
 His father's sword he has girded on, 
 
 And his wild harp slung behind him. — 
 'Land of song!' said the warrior-bard, 
 
 * Though all the world betrays thee, 
 One sword, at least, thy rights shall guard, 
 
 One faithful harp shall praise thee ! ' 
 
 The Minstrel fell! — but the foeman's chain 
 
 Could not bring his proud soul under; 
 The harp he loved ne'er spoke again, 
 
 For he tore its chords asunder; 
 And said, 'No chains shall sully thee, 
 
 Thou soul of love and bravery ! 
 Thy songs were made for the brave and free, 
 
 They shall never sound in slavery!' 
 
 Thomas Moore 
 
 137 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 BANNOCKBURN 
 
 (Robert Bruce' s Address to His Army) 
 
 Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled, 
 Scots, wham Bruce has aften led; 
 Welcome to your gory bed, 
 Or to glorious victorie. 
 
 Now's the day, and now's the hour; 
 See the front o' battle lower; 
 See approach proud Edward's power- 
 Edward! chains and slaverie! 
 
 Wha will be a traitor knave? 
 Wha can fill a coward's grave? 
 Wha sae base as be a slave? 
 Traitor! coward! turn and flee! 
 
 Wha for Scotland's King and law 
 Freedom's sword will strongly draw, 
 Free-man stand, or free-man fa'? 
 Caledonian! on wi' me! 
 
 By oppression's woes and pains! 
 By your sons in servile chains! 
 We will drain our dearest veins, 
 But they shall — they shall be free! 
 
 [138] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 Lay the proud usurpers low! 
 Tyrants fall in every foe! 
 Liberty's in every blow! 
 Forward! let us do, or die! 
 
 Robert Burns 
 
 m] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 FABLE 
 
 The mountain and the squirrel 
 
 Had a quarrel, 
 
 And the former called the latter "Little Prig;' 
 
 Bun replied, 
 
 "You are doubtless very big; 
 
 But all sorts of things and weather 
 
 Must be taken in together, 
 
 To make up a year 
 
 And a sphere. 
 
 And I think it no disgrace 
 
 To occupy my place. 
 
 If I'm not so large as you, 
 
 You are not so small as I, 
 
 And not half so spry. 
 
 I'll not deny you make 
 
 A very pretty squirrel track; 
 
 Talents differ; all is well and wisely put; 
 
 If I cannot carry forests on my back, 
 
 Neither can you crack a nut." 
 
 Ralph Waldo Emerson 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 1 
 
 GOOD HOURS 
 
 I had for my winter evening walk — 
 No one at all with whom to talk, 
 But I had the cottages in a row 
 Up to their shining eyes in snow. 
 
 And I thought I had the folk within: 
 I had the sound of a violin; 
 I had a glimpse through curtain laces 
 Of youthful forms and youthful faces. 
 
 I had such company outward bound. 
 I went till there were no cottages found. 
 I turned and repented, but coming back 
 I saw no window but that was black. 
 
 Over the snow my creaking feet 
 Disturbed the slumbering village street 
 Like profanation, by your leave, 
 At ten o'clock of a winter eve. 
 
 Robert Frost 
 
 [141] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 WINTER 
 
 When icicles hang by the wall, 
 
 And Dick the shepherd blows his nail, 
 
 And Tom bears logs into the hall, 
 And milk comes frozen home in pail, 
 
 When blood is nipt, and ways be foul, 
 
 Then nightly sings the staring owl, 
 Tuwhoo ! 
 
 Tuwhit! tuwhoo! A merry note! 
 
 While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. 
 
 When all around the wind doth blow, 
 And coughing drowns the parson's saw, 
 
 And birds sit brooding in the snow, 
 And Marian's nose looks red and raw, 
 
 When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl, 
 
 Then nightly sings the staring owl 
 Tuwhoo ! 
 
 Tuwhit! tuwhoo! A merry note! 
 
 While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. 
 
 William Shakespeare 
 
 [142] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 A CHANTED CALENDAR 
 
 First came the primrose, 
 
 On the bank high, 
 
 Like a maiden looking forth 
 
 From the window of a tower 
 
 When the battle rolls below, 
 
 So looked she, 
 
 And saw the storms go by. 
 
 Then came the wind-flower 
 In the valley left behind, 
 As a wounded maiden, pale 
 With purple streaks of woe, 
 When the battle has rolled by 
 Wanders to and fro 
 So tottered she, 
 Dishevelled in the wind. 
 
 Then came the daisies, 
 On the first of May 
 Like a bannered show's advance 
 While the crowd runs by the way, 
 Nith ten thousand flowers about them they came trooping 
 through the fields. 
 
 As a happy people come, 
 So came they, 
 
 [143] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 As a happy people come 
 When the war has rolled away, 
 With dance and tabor, pipe and drum, 
 And all make holiday. 
 
 Then came the cowslip, 
 
 Like a dancer in the fair, 
 
 She spread her little mat of green, 
 
 And on it danced she. 
 
 With a fillet bound about her brow, 
 
 A fillet round her happy brow, 
 
 A golden fillet round her brow, 
 
 And rubies in her hair. 
 
 Sydney Dobell 
 
 [144] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 THE CLOUD 
 
 I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers 
 
 From the seas and the streams; 
 I bear light shade for the leaves when laid 
 
 In their noonday dreams. 
 From my wings are shaken the dews that waken 
 
 The sweet buds every one, 
 When rocked to rest on their mother's breast 
 
 As she dances about the sun. 
 I wield the flail of the lashing hail, 
 
 And whiten the green plains under; 
 And then again I dissolve it in rain, 
 
 And laugh as I pass in thunder. 
 
 I sift the snow on the mountains below, 
 
 And their great pines groan aghast; 
 And all the night 'tis my pillow white, 
 
 While I sleep in the arms of the blast. 
 Sublime on the towers of my skiey bowers 
 
 Lightning my pilot sits; 
 In a cavern under is fettered the thunder, 
 
 It struggles and howls at fits. 
 
 Over earth and ocean, with gentle motion, 
 
 This pilot is guiding me, 
 Lured by the love of the Genii that move 
 
 In the depths of the purple sea; 
 
 [1451 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 Over the rills, and the crags, and the hills, 
 
 Over the lakes and the plains, 
 Wherever he dream, under mountain or stream, 
 
 The Spirit he loves remains; 
 And I all the while bask in heaven's blue smile, 
 
 Whilst he is dissolving in rains. 
 
 The sanguine Sunrise, with his meteor eyes, 
 
 And his burning plumes outspread, 
 Leaps on the back of my sailing rack, 
 
 When the morning star shines dead, 
 As on the jag of a mountain-crag, 
 
 Which an earthquake rocks and swings, 
 An eagle alit one moment may sit 
 
 In the light of its golden wings. 
 And, when Sunset may breathe, from the lit sea 
 beneath, 
 
 Its ardors of rest and of love, 
 And the crimson pall of eve may fall 
 
 From the depth of heaven above, 
 With wings folded I rest on mine airy nest, 
 
 As still as a brooding dove. 
 
 That orbed maiden with white fire laden, 
 
 Whom mortals call the Moon, 
 Glides glimmering o'er my fleece-like floor, 
 
 By the midnight breezes strewn; 
 
 [146] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 And wherever the beat of her unseen feet, 
 
 Which only the angels hear, 
 May have broken the woof of my tent's thin roof, 
 
 The Stars peep behind her and peer. 
 And I laugh to see them whirl and flee 
 
 Like a swarm of golden bees, 
 When I widen the rent in my wind-built tent, 
 
 Till the calm rivers, lakes, and seas, 
 Like strips of the sky fallen through me on high, 
 
 Are each paved with the moon and these. 
 
 I bind the Sun's throne with a burning zone, 
 
 And the Moon's with a girdle of pearl; 
 The volcanoes are dim, and the Stars reel and swim, 
 
 When the Whirlwinds my banner unfurl. 
 From cape to cape, with a bridge-like shape, 
 
 Over a torrent sea, 
 Sunbeam-proof, I hang like a roof; 
 
 The mountains its columns be. 
 The triumphal arch through which I march, 
 
 With hurricane, fire and snow, 
 When the Powers of the air are chained to my chair, 
 
 Is the million-colored bow; 
 The Sphere-fire above its soft colors wove, 
 
 While the moist Earth was laughing below. 
 
 I am the daughter of Earth and Water, 
 And the nursling of the Sky: 
 
 [149] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores; 
 
 I change, but I cannot die. 
 For after the rain, when with never a stain 
 
 The pavilion of heaven is bare, 
 And the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams 
 
 Build up the blue dome of air, 
 I silently laugh at my own cenotaph, 
 
 And out of the caverns of rain, 
 Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the 
 tomb, 
 
 I arise and unbuild it again. 
 
 Percy Bysshe Shelley 
 
 [150] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 BUGLE SONG 
 
 The splendor falls on castle walls 
 
 And snowy summits old in story: 
 The long light shakes across the lakes, 
 And the wild cataract leaps in glory. 
 Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, 
 Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. 
 
 O hark, O hear! how thin and clear, 
 
 And thinner, clearer, farther going! 
 O sweet and far from cliff and scar 
 The horns of Elf land faintly blowing! 
 Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying: 
 Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. 
 
 O love, they die in yon rich sky, 
 
 They faint on hill or field or river: 
 Our echoes roll from soul to soul, 
 And grow for ever and for ever. 
 Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, 
 And answer, echoes, answer, dying, dying, dying. 
 
 Alfred Tennyson 
 
 1151] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 THE FORSAKEN MERMAN 
 
 Come, dear children, let us away; 
 
 Down and away below! 
 Now my brothers call from the bay, 
 Now the great winds shoreward blow, 
 Now the salt tides seaward flow; 
 Now the wild white horses play, 
 Champ and chafe and toss in the spray. 
 
 Children dear, let us away ! 
 This way, this way! 
 
 Call her once before you go. — 
 
 Call once yet! 
 In a voice that she will know: 
 
 "Margaret! Margaret!" 
 Children's voices should be dear. 
 (Call once more) to a mother's ear; 
 Children's voices, wild with pain, — 
 
 Surely she will come again! 
 Call her once and come away; 
 
 This way, this way! 
 "Mother dear, we cannot stay! 
 The wild white horses foam and fret." 
 Margaret! Margaret! 
 
 Come, dear children; come away down; 
 
 Call no more! 
 One last look at the white-walled town, 
 
 [152] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 And the little gray church on the windy shore; 
 
 Then come down ! 
 She will not come, though you call all day; 
 
 Come away, come away! 
 
 Children dear, was it yesterday 
 We heard the sweet bells over the bay? 
 In the caverns where we lay, 
 Through the surf and through the swell, 
 The far-off sound of a silver bell? 
 Sand-strewn caverns, cool and deep, 
 Where the winds are all asleep; 
 Where the spent lights quiver and gleam, 
 Where the salt weed sways in the stream, 
 Where the sea-beasts, ranged all round, 
 Feed in the ooze of their pasture-ground; 
 Where the sea-snakes coil and twine, 
 Dry their mail and bask in the brine; 
 Where great whales come sailing by, 
 Sail and sail, with unshut eye, 
 Round the world for ever and aye? 
 
 When did music come this way? 
 
 Children dear, was it yesterday? 
 
 Children dear, was it yesterday 
 
 (Call yet once) that she went away? 
 
 Once she sate with you and me, 
 
 On a red gold throne in the heart of the sea, 
 
 [153] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 And the youngest sate on her knee, 
 She combed its bright hair, and she tended it well, 
 When down swung the sound of the far-off bell. 
 She sighed, she looked up through the clear green sea; 
 She said: "I must go, for my kinsfolk pray 
 In the little gray church on the shore to-day. 
 'Twill be Easter-time in the world, — ah me! 
 And I lose my poor soul, Merman, here with thee." 
 I said: "Go up, dear heart, through the waves: 
 Say thy prayer, and come back to the kind sea-caves!" 
 She smiled, she went up through the surf in the bay. 
 Children dear, was it yesterday? 
 
 Children dear, were we long alone? 
 "The sea grows stormy, the little ones moan; 
 Long prayers," I said, "in the world they say; 
 Come!" I said, and we rose through the surf in the bay. 
 We went up the beach, by the sandy down 
 Where the sea-stocks bloom, to the white-walled town, 
 Through the narrow paved streets, where all was still, 
 To the little gray church on the windy hill. 
 From the church came a murmur of folk at their prayers, 
 But we stood without in the cold blowing airs. 
 
 [1541 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 We climbed on the graves, on the stones worn with rains, 
 And we gazed up the aisle through the small leaded panes. 
 She sate by the pillar; we saw her clear: 
 "Margaret, hist! come quick, we are here! 
 Dear heart," I said, "we are long alone; 
 The sea grows stormy, the little ones moan." 
 But, ah, she gave me never a look, 
 For her eyes were sealed to the holy book! 
 
 Loud prays the priest; shut stands the door. 
 Come away, children, call no more! 
 Come away, come down, call no more! 
 
 Down, down, down! 
 
 Down to the depths of the sea! 
 She sits at her wheel in the humming town, 
 
 Singing most joyfully. 
 Hark what she sings: "O joy, O joy, 
 For the humming street, and the child with its toy! 
 For the priest and the bell, and the holy well; 
 
 For the wheel where I spun, 
 
 And the blessed light of the sun!" 
 
 And so she sings her fill, 
 
 Singing most joyfully, 
 
 Till the spindle drops from her hand, 
 
 And the whizzing wheel stands still. 
 She steals to the window, and looks at the sand, 
 
 And over the sand at the sea; 
 
 And her eyes are set in a stare, 
 
 [155] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 And anon there breaks a sigh, 
 And anon there drops a tear, 
 From a sorrow-clouded eye, 
 And a heart sorrow-laden, 
 A long, long sigh; 
 
 For the cold strange eyes of a little Mermaiden, 
 
 And the gleam of her golden hair. 
 
 Come away, away, children; 
 Come, children, come down! 
 The hoarse wind blows coldly ; 
 Lights shine in the town. 
 She will start from her slumber 
 When gusts shake the door; 
 She will hear the winds howling, 
 Will hear the waves roar. 
 We shall see, while above us 
 The waves roar and whirl, 
 A ceiling of amber, 
 A pavement of pearl 
 Singing: "Here came a mortal, 
 But faithless was she! 
 And alone dwell for ever 
 The kings of the sea." 
 But, children, at midnight, 
 When soft the winds blow, 
 When clear falls the moonlight, 
 When spring-tides are low; 
 
 [1561 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 When sweet airs come seaward 
 From heaths starred with broom, 
 And high rocks throw mildly 
 On the blanched sands a gloom; 
 Up the still, glistening beaches, 
 Up the creeks we will hie; 
 Over banks of bright seaweed 
 The ebb-tide leaves dry. 
 We will gaze, from the sand-hills, 
 At the white, sleeping town; 
 At the church on the hillside — 
 And then come back down. 
 Singing : " There dwells a loved one, 
 But cruel is she! 
 She left lonely for ever 
 The kings of the sea." 
 
 Matthew Arnold 
 
 157] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 NURSE'S SONG 
 
 When the voices of children are heard on the green 
 
 And laughing is heard on the hill, 
 My heart is at rest within my breast, 
 
 And everything else is still. 
 
 "Then come home, my children, the sun is gone down, 
 
 And the dews of night arise; 
 Come, come, leave off play, and let us away 
 
 Till the morning appears in the skies." 
 
 "No, no, let us play, for it is yet day, 
 
 And we cannot go to sleep; 
 Besides in the sky the little birds fly, 
 
 And the hills are all covered with sheep." 
 
 "Well, well, go and play till the light fades away, 
 
 And then go home to bed." 
 The little ones leaped and shouted and laughed; 
 
 And all the hills echoed. 
 
 William Blake 
 
 [158 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 TO A MOUSE 
 
 {On Turning Up Her Nest with the Plough, November, 1785) 
 
 Wee, sleekit, cow'rin', tim'rous beastie, 
 O, what a panic's in thy breastie! 
 Thou need na start awa' sae hasty, 
 
 Wi' bickering brattle! 
 I wad be laith to rin an' chase thee, 
 
 Wi' murd'ring pattle! 
 
 I'm truly sorry man's dominion 
 Has broken Nature's social union, 
 An* justifies that ill opinion, 
 
 Which makes thee startle 
 At me, thy poor, earth-born companion, 
 
 An' fellow-mortal! 
 
 I doubt na, whiles, but thou may thieve; 
 What then? poor beastie, thou maun live! 
 A daimen icker in a thrave 
 
 'S a sma' request; 
 I'll get a blessin' wi' the lave, 
 
 And never miss't! 
 
 Thy wee bit housie, too, in ruin! 
 Its silly wa's the win's are strewin'! 
 
 [1^91 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 An' naething, now, to big a new ane, 
 
 O' foggage green! 
 An' bleak December's wind ensuin', 
 
 Baith snell an' keen! 
 
 Thou saw the fields laid bare an' waste, 
 An' weary winter comin' fast, 
 An' cozie here, beneath the blast, 
 
 Thou thought to dwell, — 
 Till, crash! the cruel coulter passed 
 
 Out through thy cell. 
 
 That wee bit heap o' leaves an' stibble 
 Has cost thee mony a weary nibble! 
 Now thou's turned out, for a' thy trouble, 
 
 But house or hald, 
 To thole the winter's sleety dribble, 
 
 An cranreuch cauld! 
 
 But, Mousie, thou art no thy lane, 
 In proving foresight may be vain: 
 The best-laid schemes o' mice an' men, 
 
 Gang aft a-gley, 
 An' lea'e us naught but grief an' pain, 
 
 For promised joy! 
 
 Still thou art blest, compared wi' me! 
 The present only toucheth thee: 
 
 [160] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 But, och! I backward cast my e'e 
 
 On prospects drear! 
 An' forward, though I canna see, 
 
 I guess an' fear! 
 
 Robert Burns 
 
 161] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 THE FAIRIES 
 
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 Up the airy mountain, 
 Down the rushy glen, 
 
 We daren't go a-hunting 
 For fear of little men; 
 
 162] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 Wee folk, good folk, 
 Trooping all together; 
 
 Green jacket, red cap, 
 And white owl's feather! 
 
 Down along the rocky shore 
 
 Some make their home, 
 They live on crispy pancakes 
 
 Of yellow tide-foam; 
 Some in the reeds 
 
 Of the black mountain lake, 
 With frogs for their watch-dogs, 
 
 All night awake. 
 
 High on the hill-top 
 
 The old King sits; 
 He is now so old and gray 
 
 He's nigh lost his wits. 
 With a bridge of white mist 
 
 Columbkill he crosses, 
 On his stately journeys 
 
 From Slieveleague to Rosses; 
 Or going up with music 
 
 On cold starry nights 
 To sup with the Queen 
 
 Of the gay Northern Lights. 
 
 They stole little Bridget 
 For seven years long; 
 
 [163] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 When she came down again 
 
 Her friends were all gone. 
 They took her lightly back, 
 
 Between the night and morrow, 
 They thought that she was fast asleep, 
 
 But she was dead with sorrow. 
 They have kept her ever since 
 
 Deep within the lake, 
 On a bed of flag-leaves, 
 
 Watching till she wake. 
 
 By the craggy hill-side, 
 
 Through the mosses bare, 
 They have planted thorn-trees 
 
 For pleasure here and there. 
 If any man so daring 
 
 As dig them up in spite, 
 He shall find their sharpest thorns 
 
 In his bed at night. 
 
 Up the airy mountain, 
 
 Down the rushy glen, 
 We daren't go a-hunting 
 
 For fear of little men; 
 
 [164] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 Wee folk, good folk, 
 Trooping all together; 
 
 Green jacket, red cap, 
 And white owl's feather. 
 
 William Allingham 
 
 [167] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 LA BELLE DAME SANS MERCI 
 
 O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms, 
 
 Alone and palely loitering? 
 The sedge has withered from the lake, 
 
 And no birds sing. 
 
 what can ail thee, knight-at-arms 
 So haggard and so woe-begone? 
 
 The squirrel's granary is full, 
 And the harvest's done. 
 
 1 see a lily on thy brow 
 
 With anguish moist and fever-dew, 
 And on thy cheeks a fading rose 
 Fast withereth too. 
 
 I met a lady in the meads, 
 
 Full beautiful — a faery's child, 
 
 Her hair was long, her foot was light, 
 And her eyes were wild. 
 
 I made a garland for her head, 
 
 And bracelets too, and fragrant zone; 
 
 She looked at me as she did love, 
 And made sweet moan. 
 
 I set her on my pacing steed 
 
 And nothing else saw all day long, 
 
 [168] 
 

 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 For sideways would she bend, and sing 
 A faery's song. 
 
 She found me roots of relish sweet, 
 And honey wild and manna-dew, 
 
 And sure in language strange she said, 
 "I love thee true." 
 
 She took me to her elfin grot, 
 
 And there she wept and sighed full sore; 
 And there I shut her wild, wild eyes 
 
 With kisses four. 
 
 And there she lulled me asleep, 
 
 And there I dreamed — Ah! woe betide! 
 
 The latest dream I ever dreamed 
 On the cold hill's side. 
 
 I saw pale kings and princes too, 
 Pale warriors, death-pale were they all: 
 
 They cried — "La belle dame sans merci 
 Hath thee in thrall!" 
 
 I saw their starved lips in the gloam 
 With horrid warning gaped wide, 
 
 And I awoke and found me here 
 On the cold hill's side. 
 
 1171] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 And this is why I sojourn here 
 
 Alone and palely loitering, 
 Though the sedge is withered from the lake, 
 
 And no birds sing. 
 
 John Keats 
 
 \V7i\ 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 SPRING 
 
 Spring, the sweet Spring, is the year's pleasant king; 
 Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring, 
 Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing, 
 Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo! 
 
 The palm and may make country houses gay, 
 Lambs frisk and play, the shepherds pipe all day, 
 And we hear aye, birds tune this merry lay, 
 Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo! 
 
 The fields breathe sweet, the daisies kiss our feet, 
 Young lovers meet, old wives a-sunning sit, 
 In every street, these tunes our ears do greet, 
 Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo! 
 Spring! the sweet Spring! 
 
 Thomas Nashe 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 «I WANDERED LONELY' 
 
 I wandered lonely as a cloud 
 That floats on high o'er vales and hills, 
 When all at once I saw a crowd, 
 A host, of golden daffodils; 
 Beside the lake, beneath the trees, 
 Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. 
 
 Continuous as the stars that shine 
 And twinkle on the milky way, 
 They stretched in never-ending line 
 Along the margin of a bay: 
 Ten thousand saw I at a glance, 
 Tossing their heads in sprightly dance. 
 
 The waves beside them danced; but they 
 
 Out-did the sparkling waves in glee: 
 
 A poet could not but be gay, 
 
 In such a jocund company: 
 
 I gazed — and gazed — but little thought 
 
 What wealth the show to me had brought: 
 
 For oft, when on my couch I He 
 In vacant or in pensive mood, 
 They flash upon that inward eye 
 
 [176] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 Which is the bliss of solitude; 
 
 And then my heart with pleasure fills, 
 
 And dances with the daffodils. 
 
 William Wordsworth 
 
 [m] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 THE GAY GOSHAWK 
 
 "O well is me, my gay gos-hawk, 
 That you can speak and flee; 
 
 For you can carry a love-letter 
 To my true love frae me." 
 
 "O how can I carry a letter to her, 
 Or how should I her know? 
 
 I bear a tongue ne'er wi' her spak', 
 And eyes that ne'er her saw." 
 
 "The white o' my love's skin is white 
 
 As down o' dove or maw; 
 The red o' my love's cheek is red 
 
 As blood that's spilt on snaw. 
 
 "When ye come to the castle, 
 
 Light on the tree of ash, 
 And sit ye there, and sing our loves 
 
 As she comes frae the mass. 
 
 "Four and twenty fair ladies 
 
 Will to the mass repair; 
 And weel may ye my lady ken, 
 
 The fairest lady there." 
 
 When the gos-hawk flew to that castle, 
 He lighted on the ash; 
 
 [178] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 And there he sat and sang their loves 
 As she came frae the mass. 
 
 "Stay where ye be, my maidens a', 
 
 And sip red wine anon, 
 Till I go to my west window 
 
 And hear a birdie's moan." 
 
 She's gane unto her west window", 
 
 The bolt she fainly drew; 
 And unto that lady's white, white neck 
 
 The bird a letter threw. 
 
 " Ye're bidden to send your love a send, 
 
 For he has sent you twa; 
 And tell him where he may see you soon, 
 
 Or he cannot live ava." 
 
 T send him the ring from my finger, 
 The garland off my hair, 
 
 179! 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 I send him the heart that's in my breast; 
 
 What would my love have mair? 
 And at the fourth kirk in fair Scotland, 
 
 Ye'll bid him wait for me there." 
 
 She hied her to her father dear 
 
 As fast as gang could she: 
 "I'm sick at the heart, my father dear; 
 
 An asking grant you me!" 
 "Ask ye na for that Scottish lord, 
 
 For him ye'll never see!" 
 
 "An asking, an asking, dear father!" she says, 
 
 "An asking grant you me; 
 That if I die in fair England, 
 
 In Scotland ye'll bury me. 
 
 "At the first kirk o' fair Scotland, 
 
 Ye cause the bells be rung; 
 At the second kirk o' fair Scotland, 
 
 Ye cause the mass be sung; 
 
 "At the third kirk o' fair Scotland, 
 
 Ye deal gold for my sake; 
 At the fourth kirk o' fair Scotland, 
 
 O there ye'll bury me at! 
 
 [1801 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 "This is all my asking, father, 
 
 I pray ye grant it me!" 
 "Your asking is but small," he said; 
 
 "Weel granted it shall be. 
 But why do ye talk o' suchlike things? 
 
 For ye arena going to dee." 
 
 The lady's gane to her chamber, 
 And a moanfu' woman was she, 
 
 As gin she had ta'en a sudden brash, 
 And were about to dee. 
 
 The lady's gane to her chamber 
 
 As fast as she could fare; 
 And she has drunk a sleepy draught, 
 
 She mixed wi' mickle care. 
 
 She's fallen into a heavy trance, 
 And pale and cold was she; 
 
 She seemed to be as surely dead 
 As any corpse could be. 
 
 Out and spak' an auld witch- wife, 
 
 At the fireside sat she: 
 ''Gin she has killed herself for love, 
 
 I wot it weel may be: 
 
 "But drap the het lead on her cheek, 
 And drap it on her chin. 
 
 [181] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 And drap it on her bosom white, 
 And she'll maybe speak again. 
 
 "lis much that a young lady will do 
 To her true love to win." 
 
 They drapped the het lead on her cheek, 
 They drapped it on her chin, 
 
 They drapped it on her bosom, white, 
 But she spake none again. 
 
 Her brothers they went to a room, 
 
 To make to her a bier; 
 The boards were a' o' cedar wood, 
 
 The edges o' silver clear. 
 
 Her sisters they went to a room, 
 
 To make to her a sark; 
 The cloth was a' o' the satin fine, 
 
 And the stitching silken-wark. 
 
 [182] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 "Now well is me, my gay gos-hawk, 
 
 That ye can speak and flee! 
 Come show me any love-tokens 
 
 That ye have brought to me." 
 
 "She sends ye her ring frae her finger white, 
 
 The garland frae her hair; 
 She sends ye the heart within her breast; 
 
 And what would ye have mair? 
 And at the fourth kirk o' fair Scotland, 
 
 She bids ye wait for her there." 
 
 "Come hither, all my merry young men! 
 
 And drink the good red wine; 
 For we must on towards fair England 
 
 To free my love frae pine." 
 
 The funeral came into fair Scotland, 
 And they gart the bells be rung; 
 
 And when it came to the second kirk, 
 They gart the mass be sung. 
 
 And when it came to the third kirk, 
 
 They dealt gold for her sake; 
 And when it came to the fourth kirk, 
 
 Her love was waiting thereat. 
 
 At the fourth kirk in fair Scotland 
 Stood spearmen in a row; 
 
 [1831 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 And up and started her ain true love, 
 The chieftain over them a'. 
 
 "Set down, set down the bier," he says, 
 
 "Till I look upon the dead; 
 The last time that I saw her face, 
 
 Its color was warm and red." 
 
 He stripped the sheet from off her face 
 
 A little below the chin; 
 The lady then she opened her eyes, 
 
 And looked full on him. 
 
 "O give me a shive o' your bread, love, 
 O give me a cup o' your wine! 
 
 Long have I fasted for your sake, 
 And now I fain would dine. 
 
 "Gae hame, gae hame, my seven brothers, 
 
 Gae hame and blow the horn! 
 And ye may say that ye sought my skaith, 
 
 And that I hae gi'en ye the scorn. 
 
 "I cam' na here to bonny Scotland 
 
 To lie down in the clay; 
 But I cam' here to bonny Scotland, 
 
 To wear the silks sae gay ! 
 
 [184] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 "I cam' na here to bonny Scotland, 
 
 Amang the dead to rest; 
 But I cam' here to bonny Scotland 
 
 To the man that I lo'e best!" 
 
 Author Unknown 
 
 185] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 AN OLD SONG OF FAIRIES 
 
 Come, follow, follow me, 
 
 You, fairy elves that be: 
 
 Which circle on the greene, 
 
 Come, follow Mab your queene. 
 Hand in hand let's dance around, 
 For this place is fairye ground. 
 
 When mortals are at rest, 
 
 And snoring in their nest: 
 
 Unheard, and unespy'd, 
 
 Through key-holes we do glide; 
 Over tables, stools, and shelves, 
 We trip it with our fairy elves. 
 
 And, if the house be foul 
 
 With platter, dish, or bowl, 
 
 Up stairs we nimbly creep, 
 
 And find the sluts asleep: 
 There we pinch their armes and thighes; 
 None escapes, nor none espies. 
 
 But if the house be swept, 
 And from uncleanness kept, 
 We praise the household maid, 
 And duely she is paid: 
 
 [1861 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 For we use before we goe 
 To drop a tester in her shoe. 
 
 Upon a mushroomes head 
 
 Our table-cloth we spread; 
 
 A grain of rye, or wheat, 
 
 Is manchet, which we eat; 
 Pearly drops of dew we drink 
 In acorn cups fill'd to the brink. 
 
 The brains of nightingales, 
 With unctuous fat of snailes, 
 Between two cockles stew'd, 
 Is meat that's easily chew'd; 
 Tailes of wormes, and marrow of mice, 
 Do make a dish, that's wonderous nice. 
 
 The grashopper, gnat, and fly, 
 
 Serve for our minstrelsie; 
 
 Grace said, we dance a while, 
 
 And so the time beguile: 
 And if the moon doth hide her head, 
 The gloe-worm lights us home to bed. 
 
 On tops of dewie grasse 
 So nimbly do we passe, 
 
 :i87] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 The young and tender stalk 
 
 Ne'er bends when we do walk: 
 Yet in the morning may be seen 
 Where we the night before have been. 
 
 Author Unknown 
 
 U88J 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 MOON FOLLY 
 
 {The Song of Conn the Fool) 
 
 I will go up the mountain after the Moon : 
 She is caught in a dead fir-tree. 
 Like a great pale apple of silver and pearl, 
 Like a great pale apple is she. 
 
 I will leap and will catch her with quick cold hands 
 And carry her home in my sack. 
 I will set her down safe on the oaken bench 
 That stands at the chimney-back. 
 
 And then I will sit by the fire all night, 
 And sit by the fire all day. 
 I will gnaw at the Moon to my heart's delight 
 Till I gnaw her slowly away. 
 
 And while I grow mad with the Moon's cold taste 
 The World will beat at my door, 
 Crying "Come out!" and crying "Make haste, 
 And give us the Moon once more!" 
 
 But I shall not answer them ever at all. 
 I shall laugh, as I count and hide 
 The great black beautiful Seeds of the Moon 
 In a flower-pot deep and wide. 
 
 [189] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 Then I shall lie down and go fast asleep, 
 Drunken with flame and aswoon. 
 But the seeds will sprout and the seeds will leap 
 The subtle swift seeds of the Moon. 
 
 And some day, all of the World that cries 
 And beats at my door shall see 
 A thousand moon-leaves spring from my thatch 
 On a wonderful white Moon-tree! 
 
 Then each shall have Moons to his heart's desire: 
 Apples of silver and pearl; 
 Apples of orange and copper fire 
 Setting his five wits aswirl ! 
 
 And then they will thank me, who mock me now, 
 "Wanting the Moon is he,"— 
 Oh, I'm off to the mountain after the Moon, 
 Ere she falls from the dead fir-tree ! 
 
 Fannie Stearns Gifford 
 
 190] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 STAR-TALK 
 
 "Are you awake, Gemelli, 
 This frosty night?" 
 "We'll be awake till reveille, 
 Which is Sunrise," say the Gemelli, 
 "It's no good trying to go to sleep: 
 If there's wine to be got we'll drink it deep, 
 But sleep is gone for to-night 
 But sleep is gone for to-night." 
 
 "Are you cold, too, poor Pleiads, 
 
 This frosty night?" 
 
 "Yes, and so are' the Hyads: 
 
 See us cuddle and hug," say the Pleiads, 
 
 "All six in a ring: it keeps us warm: 
 
 We huddle together like birds in a storm: 
 
 It's bitter weather to-night, 
 
 It's bitter weather to-night." 
 
 "What do you hunt, Orion, 
 This starry night?" 
 "The Ram, the Bull and the Lion, 
 And the Great Bear," says Orion, 
 "With my starry quiver and beautiful belt 
 I am trying to find a good thick pelt 
 To warm my shoulders to-night, 
 To warm my shoulders to-night." 
 
 [193] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 "Did you hear that, Great She-bear, 
 
 This frosty night?" 
 
 "Yes, he's talking of stripping me bare 
 
 Of my own big fur," says the She-bear, 
 
 *Tm afraid of the man and his terrible arrow: 
 
 The thought of it chills my bones to the marrow, 
 
 And the frost so cruel to-night! 
 
 And the frost so cruel to-night!" 
 
 "How is your trade, Aquarius, 
 This frosty night?" 
 "Complaints is many and various 
 And my feet are cold," says Aquarius, 
 "There's Venus objects to Dolphin-scales, 
 And Mars to Crab-spawn found in my pails, 
 And the pump has frozen to-night, 
 And the pump has frozen to-night." 
 
 Robert Graves 
 
 [194] 
 
^3-f> ' -a-_I[/A[\ 
 
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RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 JIM JAY 
 
 Do diddle di do, 
 
 Poor Jim Jay 
 Got stuck fast 
 
 In Yesterday. 
 Squinting he was, 
 
 On cross-legs bent, 
 Never heeding 
 
 The wind was spent. 
 Round veered the weathercock, 
 
 The sun drew in — 
 And stuck was Jim 
 
 Like a rusty pin. . . . 
 We pulled and we pulled 
 
 From seven till twelve, 
 Jim, too frightened 
 
 To help himself. 
 But all in vain. 
 
 The clock struck one, 
 And there was Jim 
 
 A little bit gone. 
 At half-past five 
 
 You scarce could see 
 A glimpse of his flapping 
 
 Handkerchee. 
 And when came noon, 
 
 And we climbed sky-high, 
 
 [1971 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 Jim was a speck 
 
 Slip-slipping by. 
 Come tomorrow, 
 
 The neighbours say, 
 He'll be past crying for; 
 
 Poor Jim Jay. 
 
 Walter de la Mare 
 
 198] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 THE GHOSTS OF THE BUFFALOES 
 
 Last night at black midnight I woke with a cry, 
 
 The windows were shaking, there was thunder on high, 
 
 The floor was a-tremble, the door was a- jar, 
 
 White fires, crimson fires, shone from afar. 
 
 I rushed to the door yard. The city was gone. 
 
 My home was a hut without orchard or lawn. 
 
 It was mud-smear and logs near a whispering stream, 
 
 Nothing else built by man could I see in my dream. . , 
 
 Then . . . 
 
 Ghost-kings came headlong, row upon row, 
 
 Gods of the Indians, torches aglow. 
 
 They mounted the bear and the elk and the deer, 
 
 And eagles gigantic, aged and sere, 
 
 They rode long-horn cattle, they cried "A-la-la." 
 
 They lifted the knife, the bow, and the spear, 
 
 They lifted ghost-torches from dead fires below, 
 
 The midnight made grand with the cry "A-la-la." 
 
 The midnight made grand with a red-god charge, 
 
 A red-god show, 
 
 A red-god show, 
 
 "A-la-la, a-la-la, a-la-la, a-la-la." 
 
 With bodies like bronze, and terrible eyes 
 
 Came the rank and the file, with catamount cries, 
 
 Gibbering, yipping, with hollow-skull clacks, 
 
 [1991 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 Riding white bronchos with skeleton backs, 
 
 Scalp-hunters, beaded and spangled and bad, 
 
 Naked and lustful and foaming and mad, 
 
 Flashing primeval demoniac scorn, 
 
 Blood-thirst and pomp amid darkness reborn, 
 
 Power and glory that sleep in the grass 
 
 While the winds and the snows and the great rains pass. 
 
 They crossed the gray river, thousands abreast, 
 
 They rode in infinite lines to the west, 
 
 Tide upon tide of strange fury and foam, 
 
 Spirits and wraiths, the blue was their home, 
 
 The sky was their goal where the star-flags are furled, 
 
 And on past those far golden splendors they whirled. 
 
 They burned to dim meteors, lost in the deep. 
 
 And I turned in dazed wonder, thinking of sleep. 
 
 And the wind crept by 
 
 Alone, unkempt, unsatisfied, 
 
 The wind cried and cried — 
 
 Muttered of massacres long past, 
 
 Buffaloes in shambles vast . . . 
 
 An owl said: "Hark, what is a-wing?" 
 
 I heard a cricket carolling, 
 
 I heard a cricket carolling, 
 
 I heard a cricket carolling. 
 
 Then . . . 
 
 Snuffing the lightning that crashed from on high 
 
 f 200 1 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 Rose royal old buffaloes, row upon row. 
 
 The lords of the prairie came galloping by. 
 
 And I cried in my heart "A-la-la, a-la-la, 
 
 A red-god show, 
 
 A red-god show, 
 
 A-la-la, a-la-la, a-la-la, a-la-la." 
 
 Buffaloes, buffaloes, thousands abreast, 
 
 A scourge and amazement, they swept to the west. 
 
 With black bobbing noses, with red rolling tongues, 
 
 Coughing forth steam from their leather-wrapped lungs, 
 
 Cows with their calves, bulls big and vain, 
 
 Goring the laggards, shaking the mane, 
 
 Stamping flint feet, flashing moon eyes, 
 
 Pompous and owlish, shaggy and wise. 
 
 Like sea-cliffs and caves resounded their ranks 
 
 With shoulders like waves, and undulant flanks. 
 
 Tide upon tide of strange fury and foam, 
 
 Spirits and wraiths, the blue was their home, 
 
 The sky was their goal where the star-flags are furled, 
 
 And on past those far golden splendors they whirled. 
 
 They burned to dim meteors, lost in the deep, 
 
 And I turned in dazed wonder, thinking of sleep. 
 
 I heard a cricket's cymbals play, 
 A scarecrow lightly flapped his rags, 
 And a pan that hung by his shoulder rang, 
 Rattled and thumped in a listless way, 
 
 [2011 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 And now the wind in the chimney sang, 
 
 The wind in the chimney, 
 
 The wind in the chimney, 
 
 The wind in the chimney, 
 
 Seemed to say: — 
 
 "Dream, boy, dream, 
 
 If you anywise can. 
 
 To dream is the work 
 
 Of beast or man. 
 
 Life is the west-going dream-storm's breath, 
 
 Life is a dream, the sigh of the skies, 
 
 The breath of the stars, that nod on their pillows 
 
 With their golden hair mussed over their eyes." 
 
 The locust played on his musical wing, 
 
 Sang to his mate of love's delight. 
 
 I heard the whippoorwill's soft fret. 
 
 I heard a cricket carolling, 
 
 I heard a cricket carolling, 
 
 I heard a cricket say: "Good-night, good-night, 
 
 Good-night, good-night, . . . good-night." 
 
 Vachel Lindsay 
 
 202] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 A CHRISTMAS CAROL 
 
 In the bleak mid- winter 
 
 Frosty wind made moan, 
 Earth stood hard as iron, 
 
 Water like a stone; 
 Snow had fallen, snow on snow, 
 
 Snow on snow, 
 In the bleak mid-winter 
 
 Long ago. 
 
 Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him 
 
 Nor earth sustain; 
 Heaven and earth shall flee away 
 
 When He comes to reign: 
 In the bleak mid-winter 
 
 A stable-place sufficed 
 The Lord God Almighty 
 
 Jesus Christ. 
 
 Enough for Him, whom cherubim 
 
 Worship night and day, 
 A breastful of milk 
 
 And a mangerful of hay; 
 Enough for Him, whom angels 
 
 Fall down before, 
 The ox and ass and camel 
 
 Which adore. 
 
 [203] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 Angels and archangels 
 
 May have gathered there, 
 Cherubim and seraphim 
 
 Thronged the air; 
 But only His mother 
 
 In her maiden bliss 
 Worshipped the Beloved 
 
 With a kiss. 
 
 What can I give Him, 
 
 Poor as I am? 
 If I were a shepherd 
 
 I would bring a lamb, 
 If I were a Wise Man 
 
 I would do my part, — 
 Yet what I can I give Him, 
 
 Give my heart. 
 
 Christina Rossetti 
 
 [204] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 ESCAPE AT BEDTIME 
 
 The lights from the parlour and kitchen shone out 
 
 Through the blinds and the windows and bars; 
 And high overhead and all moving about, 
 
 There were thousands of millions of stars. 
 There ne'er were such thousands of leaves on a tree 
 
 Nor of people in church or the Park, 
 As the crowds of the stars that looked down upon me, 
 
 And that glittered and winked in the dark. 
 
 The Dog, and the Plough, and the Hunter, and all, 
 
 And the star of the sailor, and Mars, 
 These shone in the sky, and the pail by the wall 
 
 Would be half full of water and stars. 
 They saw me at last, and they chased me with cries, 
 
 And they soon had me packed into bed; 
 But the glory kept shining and bright in my eyes, 
 
 And the stars going round in my head. 
 
 Robert Louis Stevenson 
 
 205] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 SONG OF THE CHATTAHOOCHEE 
 
 Out of the hills of Habersham, 
 
 Down the valleys of Hall, 
 I hurry amain to reach the plain, 
 Run the rapid and leap the fall, 
 Split at the rock and together again, 
 Accept my bed, or narrow or wide, 
 And flee from folly on every side 
 With a lover's pain to attain the plain 
 
 Far from the hills of Habersham, 
 
 Far from the valleys of Hall. 
 
 All down the hills of Habersham, 
 
 All through the valleys of Hall, 
 The rushes cried Abide, abide, 
 The wilful waterweeds held me thrall, 
 The laving laurel turned my tide, 
 The ferns and the fondling grass said Stay, 
 The dewberry dipped for to work delay, 
 And the little reeds sighed Abide, abide, 
 
 Here in the hills of Habersham, 
 
 Here in the valleys of Hall. 
 
 High o'er the hills of Habersham, 
 Veiling the valleys of Hall, 
 The hickory told me manifold 
 
 [2061 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 Fair tales of shade, the poplar tall 
 Wrought me her shadowy self to hold, 
 The chestnut, the oak, the walnut, the pine, 
 Overleaning, with flickering meaning and sign, 
 Said, Pass not, so cold, these manifold 
 Deep shades of the hills of Habersham^ 
 These glades in the valleys of Hall. 
 
 And oft in the hills of Habersham, 
 
 And oft in the valleys of Hall, 
 The white quartz shone, and the smooth brook-stone 
 Did bar me of passage with friendly brawl, 
 And many a luminous jewel lone 
 — Crystals clear or a-cloud with mist, 
 Ruby, garnet and amethyst — 
 Made lures with the lights of streaming stone 
 
 In the clefts of the hills of Habersham, 
 
 In the beds of the valleys of Hall. 
 
 But oh, not the hills of Habersham, 
 
 And oh, not the valleys of Hall 
 Avail: I am fain for to water the plam. 
 Downward the voices of Duty call — 
 Downward, to toil and be mixed with the main. 
 The dry fields bum, and the mills are to turn, 
 And a myriad flowers mortally yearn, 
 
 [207] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 And the lordly main from beyond the plain 
 Calls o'er the hills of Habersham, 
 Calls through the valleys of Hall. 
 
 Sidney Lanier 
 
 /37* r * m *\ 
 
 [208] 
 
2v »??> ":"■'' : ^T;- : '/;» ? ^ '•~'<\'<~'» 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 SEA FEVER 
 
 I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the 
 
 sky, 
 And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by; 
 And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white 
 
 sail's shaking, 
 And a gray mist on the sea's face, and a gray dawn breaking. 
 
 I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running 
 
 tide 
 Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied; 
 And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying, 
 And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls 
 
 crying. 
 
 I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gipsy life, 
 To the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind's like 
 
 a whetted knife; 
 And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover, 
 And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's 
 
 over. 
 
 John Masefield 
 
 1211 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 "O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN!" 
 
 {In Memory of Abraham Lincoln) 
 
 O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done, 
 
 The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is 
 
 won, 
 The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, 
 While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring; 
 But O heart! heart! heart! 
 O the bleeding drops of red ! 
 
 Where on the deck my Captain lies, 
 Fallen cold and dead. 
 
 O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells; 
 
 Rise up — f or you the flag is flung — f or you the bugle trills, 
 
 For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths — for you the shores 
 
 a-crowding, 
 For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turn- 
 ing; 
 
 Here, Captain! dear father! 
 This arm beneath your head! 
 
 It is some dream that on the deck 
 You've fallen cold and dead. 
 
 My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still, 
 My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will; 
 The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and 
 done, 
 
 [2121 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won; 
 Exult, O shores! and ring, O bells! 
 But I, with mournful tread, 
 Walk the deck my Captain lies, 
 Fallen cold and dead. 
 
 Walt Whitman 
 
 [213] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 THE SNOW 
 
 It sifts from leaden sieves, 
 It powders all the wood, 
 It fills with alabaster wool 
 The wrinkles of the road. 
 
 It makes an even face 
 Of mountain and of plain, — 
 Unbroken forehead from the east 
 Unto the east again. 
 
 It reaches to the fence, 
 It wraps it, rail by rail, 
 Till it is lost in fleeces; 
 It flings a crystal veil 
 
 On stump and stack and stem, — 
 The summer's empty room, 
 Acres of seams where harvests were, 
 Recordless, but for them. 
 
 It ruffles wrists of posts, 
 
 As ankles of a queen, — 
 
 Then stills its artisans like ghosts, 
 
 Denying they have been. 
 
 Emily Dickinson 
 
 214 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 A SONG FOR MY MOTHER: HER HANDS 
 
 My mother's hands are cool and fair, 
 
 They can do anything. 
 Delicate mercies hide them there 
 
 Like flowers in the spring. 
 
 When I was small and could not sleep, 
 
 She used to come to me, 
 And with my cheek upon her hand 
 
 How sure my rest would be. 
 
 For everything she ever touched 
 
 Of beautiful or fine, 
 Their memories living in her hands 
 
 Would warm that sleep of mine. 
 
 Her hands remember how they played 
 One time in meadow streams, — 
 
 And all the nickering song and shade 
 Of water took my dreams. 
 
 Swift through her haunted fingers pass 
 Memories of garden things; — 
 
 I dipped my face in flowers and grass 
 And sounds of hidden wings. 
 
 One time she touched the cloud that kissed 
 Brown pastures bleak and far; — 
 
 [2151 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 I leaned my cheek into a mist 
 And thought I was a star. 
 
 All this was very long ago 
 And I am grown; but yet 
 
 The hand that lured my slumber so 
 I never can forget. 
 
 For still when drowsiness comes on 
 It seems so soft and cool, 
 
 Shaped happily beneath my cheek, 
 Hollow and beautiful. 
 
 Anna Hempstead Branch 
 
 [216] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 THE FOUNTAIN 
 
 Into the sunshine, 
 Full of the light, 
 
 Leaping and flashing 
 From morn till night! 
 
 Into the moonlight, 
 Whiter than snow, 
 
 Waving so flower-like 
 When the winds blow! 
 
 Into the starlight, 
 Rushing in spray, 
 
 Happy at midnight, 
 Happy by day! 
 
 Ever in motion, 
 
 Blithesome and cheery. 
 Still climbing heavenwards 
 
 Never aweary; — 
 
 Glad of all weathers, 
 Still seeming best, 
 
 Upward or downward, 
 Motion thy rest; — 
 
 (217] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 Full of a nature 
 
 Nothing can tame, 
 Changed every moment, 
 
 Ever the same; — 
 
 Ceaseless aspiring, 
 
 Ceaseless content, 
 Darkness or sunshine 
 
 Thy element; — 
 
 Glorious fountain! 
 
 Let my heart be 
 Fresh, changeful, constant, 
 
 Upward, like thee! 
 
 James Russell Lowell 
 
 [218] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 NATURE'S FRIEND 
 
 Say what you like, 
 All things love mel 
 
 I pick no flowers — 
 That wins the Bee. 
 
 The Summer's Moths 
 Think my hand one—' 
 
 To touch their wings — 
 With Wind and Sun. 
 
 The garden Mouse 
 Comes near to play; 
 
 Indeed, he turns 
 His eyes away. 
 
 The Wren knows well 
 
 I rob no nest: 
 When I look in, 
 
 She still will rest. 
 
 The hedge stops Cows, 
 Or they would come 
 
 After my voice 
 
 Right to my home. 
 
 [221] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 The Horse can tell, 
 Straight from my lip, 
 
 My hand could not 
 Hold any whip. 
 
 Say what you like, 
 All things love me! 
 
 Horse, Cow, and Mouse, 
 Bird, Moth and Bee. 
 
 William H. Dames 
 
 222] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 TREE-TOAD 
 
 Tree-toad is a small gray person 
 
 With a silver voice. 
 
 Tree-toad is a leaf-gray shadow 
 
 That sings. 
 
 Tree-toad is never seen 
 
 Unless a star squeezes through the leaves, 
 
 Or a moth looks sharply at a gray branch. 
 
 How would it be, I wonder, 
 
 To sing patiently all night, 
 
 Never thinking that people are asleep? 
 
 Raindrops and mist, starriness over the trees, 
 
 The moon, the dew, the other little singers, 
 
 Cricket . . . toad . . . leaf rustling ... 
 
 They would listen: 
 
 It would be music like weather 
 
 That gets into all the corners 
 
 Of out-of-doors. 
 
 Every night I see little shadows 
 
 I never saw before. 
 
 Every night I hear little voices 
 
 I never heard before. 
 
 When night comes trailing her starry cloak, 
 
 I start out for slumberland, 
 
 With tree-toads calling along the roadside. 
 
 [223] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 Good-night, I say to one, Good-by, I say to another* 
 
 I hope to find you on the way 
 
 We have traveled before! 
 
 I hope to hear you singing on the Road of Dreams! 
 
 Hilda Conkling 
 (Six years old) 
 
 [9S4] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 AN ANCIENT CHRISTMAS CAROL 
 
 He came all so still 
 
 Where His mother was, 
 
 As dew in April 
 
 That f alleth on the grass. 
 
 He came all so still 
 
 Where His mother lay, 
 As dew in April 
 
 That f alleth on the spray. 
 
 He came all so still 
 
 To His mother's bower, 
 
 As dew in April 
 
 That f alleth on the flower. 
 
 Mother and maiden 
 
 Was never none but she! 
 
 Well might such a lady 
 God's mother be. 
 
 Author TJnknowri 
 
 [115] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 AN OLD CHRISTMAS CAROL 
 
 As Joseph was a-waukin', 
 He heard an angel sing, 
 
 "This night shall be the birthnight 
 Of Christ our heavenly King. 
 
 "His birth-bed shall be neither 
 
 In housen nor in hall, 
 Nor in the place of paradise, 
 
 But in the oxen's stall. 
 
 "He neither shall be rocked 
 In silver nor in gold, 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 But in the wooden manger 
 That lieth in the mould. 
 
 "He neither shall be washen 
 With white wine nor with red, 
 
 But with the fair spring water 
 That on you shall be shed. 
 
 "He neither shall be clothed 
 
 In purple nor in pall, 
 But in the fair, white linen 
 
 That usen babies all." " 
 
 As Joseph was a-waukin', 
 Thus did the angel sing, 
 
 And Mary's son at midnight 
 Was born to be our King. 
 
 Then be you glad, good people, 
 At this time of the year; 
 
 And light you up your candles, 
 For His star it shineth clear. 
 
 Author Unknown 
 
 [«27] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 KING JOHN AND THE ABBOT OF CANTERBURY 
 
 An ancient story I'll tell you anon 
 Of a notable prince that was called King John; 
 And he ruled England with main and with might, 
 For he did great wrong, and maintained little right. 
 
 And I'll tell you a story, a story so merry, 
 Concerning the Abbot of Canterbury; 
 How for his house-keeping and high renown, 
 They rode post for him to fair London town. 
 
 An hundred men the king did hear say, 
 The abbot kept in his house every day; 
 And fifty gold chains without any doubt, 
 In velvet coats waited the abbot about. 
 
 "How now, father abbot, I hear it of thee, 
 
 Thou keepest a far better house than me; 
 
 And for thy house-keeping and high renown, 
 
 I fear thou work'st treason against my own crown." 
 
 "My liege," quo' the abbot, "I would it were known 
 I never spend nothing, but what is my own; 
 And I trust your grace will do me no deere, 
 For spending of my own true-gotton gear." 
 
 "Yes, yes, father abbot, thy fault it is high, 
 And now for the same thou needest must die; 
 For except thou canst answer me questions three, 
 Thy head shall be smitten from thy bodie. 
 
 [228] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 "And first," quo' the king, "when I'm in this stead, 
 With my crown of gold so fair on my head, 
 Among all my liege-men so noble of birth, 
 Thou must tell me to one penny what I am worth. 
 
 "Secondly, tell me, without any doubt, 
 How soon I may ride the whole world about; 
 And at the third question, thou must not shrink, 
 But tell me here truly what I do think." 
 
 "O these are hard questions for my shallow wit, 
 Nor I cannot answer your grace as yet: 
 But if you will give me but three weeks' space, 
 I'll do my endeavor to answer your grace." 
 
 "Now three weeks' space to thee will I give, 
 And that is the longest time thou hast to live; 
 For if thou dost not answer my questions three, 
 Thy lands and thy livings are forfeit to me." 
 
 229 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 Away rode the abbot all sad at that word, 
 And he rode to Cambridge, and Oxenford; 
 But never a doctor there was so wise, 
 That could with his learning an answer devise. 
 
 Then home rode the abbot of comfort so cold, 
 And he met his shepherd a-going to fold : 
 "How now, my lord abbot, you are welcome home; 
 What news do you bring us from good King John?" 
 
 "Sad news, sad news, shepherd, I must give, 
 That I have but three days more to live; 
 For if I do not answer him questions three, 
 My head will be smitten from my bodie. 
 
 "The first is to tell him there in that stead, 
 With his crown of gold so fair on his head, 
 Among all his liege-men so noble of birth, 
 To within one penny of what he is worth. 
 
 "The second, to tell him without any doubt, 
 How soon he may ride this whole world about; 
 And at the third question I must not shrink, 
 But tell him there truly what he does think." 
 
 "Now cheer up, sire abbot, did you never hear yet 
 That a fool he may learn a wise man wit? 
 Lend me horse, and serving-men, and your apparel, 
 And I'll ride to London to answer your quarrel. 
 
 [230] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 "Nay, frown not, if it hath been told unto me, 
 
 I am like your lordship, as ever may be; 
 
 And if you will but lend me your gown, 
 
 There is none shall know us at fair London town." 
 
 "Now horses and serving-men thou shalt have, 
 With sumptuous array most gallant and brave, 
 With crozier and mitre, and rochet, and cope, 
 Fit to appear 'fore our Father the Pope." 
 
 "Now welcome, sire abbot," the king he did say, 
 "'Tis well thou'rt come back to keep thy day: 
 For and if thou canst answer my questions three, 
 Thy life and thy living both saved shall be. 
 
 "And first, when thou seest me here in this stead, 
 With my crown of gold so fair on my head, 
 Among all my liege-men so noble of birth, 
 Tell me to one penny what I am worth." 
 
 "For thirty pence our Saviour was sold 
 Among the false Jews, as I have been told, 
 And twenty-nine is the worth of thee, 
 For I think thou art one penny worser than he." 
 
 231] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 The king he laughed, and swore by St. Bittel, 
 "I did not think I had been worth so little! 
 — Now secondly tell me, without any doubt, 
 How soon I may ride this whole world about." 
 
 "You must rise with the sun, and ride with the same 
 Until the next morning he riseth again; 
 And then your grace need not make any doubt 
 But in twenty-four hours you'll ride it about." 
 
 The king he laughed, and swore by St. Jone, 
 
 "I did not think it could be done so soon! 
 
 — Now from the third question thou must not shrink, 
 
 But tell me here truly what I do think." 
 
 "Yea, that shall I do, and make your grace merry; 
 You think I'm the Abbot of Canterbury; 
 But I'm his poor shepherd, as plain you may see, 
 That am come to beg pardon for him and for me." 
 
 The king he laughed and swore by the Mass, 
 "I'll make thee lord abbot this day in this place!" 
 "Now nay, my liege, be not in such speed, 
 Por alack I can neither write nor read." 
 
 [232] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 "Four nobles a week, then, I will give thee, 
 For this merry jest thou hast shown unto me; 
 And tell the old abbot when thou comest home, 
 Thou hast brought him a pardon from good King 
 John." 
 
 Author Unknown 
 
 f«S3j 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 THE SANDS OF DEE 
 
 "O Mary, go and call the cattle home, 
 And call the cattle home, 
 And call the cattle home 
 Across the sands of Dee!" 
 The western wind was wild and dank with foam, 
 And all alone went she. 
 
 The western tide crept up along the sand, 
 And o'er and o'er the sand, 
 And round and round the sand, 
 As far as eye could see. 
 The rolling mist came down and hid the land: 
 And never home came she. 
 
 "Oh! is it weed, or fish, or floating hair — 
 A tress of golden hair, 
 A drowned maiden's hair 
 Above the nets at sea? 
 Was never salmon yet that shone so fair 
 Among the stakes on Dee." 
 
 They rowed her in across the rolling foam, 
 The cruel crawling foam, 
 The cruel hungry foam, 
 
 [234] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 To her grave beside the sea: 
 But still the boatmen hear her call the cattle home 
 Across the sands of Dee! 
 
 Charles Kingsley 
 
 [835] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 SISTER, AWAKE! 
 
 (Old English Song) 
 
 Sister, awake! close not your eyes! 
 
 The day her light discloses, 
 And the bright morning doth arise 
 
 Out of her bed of roses. 
 
 See the clear sun, the world's bright eye, 
 
 In at our window peeping: 
 Lo, how he blusheth to espy 
 
 Us idle wenches sleeping! 
 
 Therefore awake ! make haste, I say, 
 
 And let us, without staying, 
 All in our gowns of green so gay 
 
 Into the Park a-maying! 
 
 Author Unknown 
 
 [236] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 THE SKELETON IN ARMOR 
 
 "Speak! speak! thou fearful guest! 
 Who, with thy hollow breast 
 Still in rude armor dressed, 
 
 Comest to daunt me! 
 Wrapped not in Eastern balms, 
 But with thy fleshless palms 
 Stretched, as if asking alms, 
 
 Why dost thou haunt me?" 
 
 Then, from those cavernous eyes 
 Pale flashes seemed to rise, 
 As when the Northern skies 
 
 Gleam in December; 
 And, like the water's flow 
 Under December's snow, 
 Came a dull voice of woe 
 
 From the heart's chamber. 
 
 "I was a Viking old! 
 
 My deeds, though manifold, 
 
 No Skald in song has told, 
 
 No Saga taught thee! 
 Take heed, that in thy verse 
 Thou dost the tale rehearse, 
 Else dread a dead man's curse 
 
 For this I sought thee. 
 
 [237] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 "Far in the Northern Land, 
 By the wild Baltic's strand, 
 I with my childish hand, 
 
 Tamed the gerfalcon; 
 And, with my skates fast-bound, 
 Skimmed the half-frozen Sound, 
 That the poor whimpering hound 
 
 Trembled to walk on. 
 
 "Oft to his frozen lair 
 Tracked I the grisly bear, 
 While from my path the hare 
 
 Fled like a shadow; 
 Oft through the forest dark 
 Followed the were-wolf's bark, 
 Until the soaring lark 
 
 Sang from the meadow. 
 
 "But when I older grew, 
 Joining a corsair's crew, 
 O'er the dark sea I flew 
 
 With the marauders. 
 Wild was the life we led; 
 Many the souls that sped, 
 Many the hearts that bled, 
 
 By our stern orders. 
 
 "Many a wassail-bout 
 Wore the long Winter out; 
 
 [2381 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 Often our midnight shout 
 
 Set the cocks crowing, 
 As we the Berserk's tale 
 Measured in cups of ale, 
 Draining the oaken pail, 
 
 Filled to o'erflowing. 
 
 "Once as I told in glee 
 Tales of the stormy sea, 
 Soft eyes did gaze on me, 
 
 Burning yet tender; 
 And as the white stars shine 
 On the dark Norway pine, 
 On that dark heart of mine 
 
 Fell their soft splendor. 
 
 "I wooed the blue-eyed maid, 
 Yielding, yet half afraid, 
 And in the forest's shade 
 
 Our vows were plighted. 
 Under its loosened vest 
 Fluttered her little breast, 
 Like birds within their nest 
 
 By the hawk frighted. 
 
 "Bright in her father's hall 
 Shields gleamed upon the wall, 
 Loud sang the minstrels all, 
 Chanting his glory; 
 
 [239] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 When of old Hildebrand 
 I asked his daughter's hand, 
 Mute did the minstrels stand 
 To hear my story. 
 
 "While the brown ale he quaffed, 
 Loud then the champion laughed, 
 And as the wind-gusts waft 
 
 The sea-foam brightly, 
 So the loud laugh of scorn, 
 Out of those lips unshorn, 
 From the deep drinking-horn 
 
 Blew the foam lightly. 
 
 "She was a Prince's child, 
 
 I but a Viking wild, 
 
 And though she blushed and smiled, 
 
 I was discarded! 
 Should not the dove so white 
 Follow the sea-mew's flight, 
 Why did they leave that night 
 
 Her nest unguarded? 
 
 "Scarce had I put to sea, 
 Bearing the maid with me, 
 Fairest of all was she 
 
 Among the Norsemen! 
 
 [240] 
 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 When on the white sea-strand, 
 Waving his armed hand, 
 Saw we old Hildebrand, 
 
 With twenty horsemen. 
 
 "Then launched they to the blast, 
 Bent like a reed each mast, 
 Yet we were gaining fast, 
 
 When the wind failed us; 
 And with a sudden flaw 
 Came round the gusty Skaw, 
 So that our foe we saw 
 
 Laugh as he hailed us. 
 
 "And as to catch the gale 
 Round veered the flapping sail, 
 'Death!' was the helmsman's hail, 
 
 'Death without quarter!' 
 Mid-ships with iron keel 
 Struck we her ribs of steel; 
 Down her black hulk did reel 
 
 Through the black water! 
 
 "As with his wings aslant, 
 Sails the fierce cormorant, 
 Seeking some rocky haunt, 
 
 With his prey laden, — 
 
 [2411 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 So toward the open main, 
 Beating to sea again, 
 Through the wild hurricane, 
 Bore I the maiden. 
 
 "Three weeks we westward bore, 
 And when the storm was o'er, 
 Cloud-like we saw the shore 
 
 Stretching to leeward; 
 There for my lady's bower 
 Built I the lofty tower, 
 Which, to this very hour, 
 
 Stands looking seaward. 
 
 "There lived we many years; 
 Time dried the maiden's tears; 
 She had forgot her fears, 
 
 She was a mother; 
 Death closed her mild blue eyes, 
 Under that tower she lies; 
 Ne'er shall the sun arise 
 
 On such another! 
 
 "Still grew my bosom then, 
 Still as a stagnant fen ! 
 Hateful to me were men, 
 
 The sunlight hateful! 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 In the vast forest here, 
 Clad in my warlike gear, 
 Fell I upon my spear, 
 
 Oh, death was grateful! 
 
 "Thus, seamed with many scars, 
 Bursting these prison bars, 
 Up to its native stars 
 
 My soul ascended! 
 There from the flowing bowl 
 Deep drinks the warrior's soul, 
 Skoal! to the Northland! skoal!" 
 
 Thus the tale ended. 
 
 Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 
 
 [<MSj 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 BY BENDEMEER'S STREAM 
 
 Theee's a bower of roses by Bendemeer's stream, 
 And the nightingale sings round it all the day long; 
 
 In the time of my childhood 'twas like a sweet dream. 
 To sit in the roses and hear the bird's song. 
 
 That bower and its music I never forget, 
 
 But oft when alone, in the bloom of the year, 
 
 I think — is the nightingale singing there yet? 
 
 Are the roses still bright by the calm Bendemeer? 
 
 No, the roses soon wither'd that hung o'er the wave, 
 But some blossoms were gather'd while freshly they 
 shone, 
 
 And a dew was distill'd from their flowers, that gave 
 All the fragrance of summer, when summer was gone. 
 
 Thus memory draws from delight, ere it dies, 
 An essence that breathes of it many a year; 
 
 Thus bright to my soul, as 'twas then to my eyes, 
 Is that bower on the banks of the calm Bendemeer! 
 
 Thomas Moore 
 
 244] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 A PRAYER 
 
 Teach me, Father, how to go 
 Softly as the grasses grow; 
 Hush my soul to meet the shock 
 Of the wild world as a rock; 
 But my spirit, propt with power, 
 Make as simple as a flower. 
 Let the dry heart fill its cup, 
 Like a poppy looking up; 
 Let life lightly wear her crown, 
 Like a poppy looking down. 
 
 Teach me, Father, how to be 
 Kind and patient as a tree. 
 Joyfully the crickets croon 
 Under shady oak at noon; 
 Beetle, on his mission bent, 
 Tarries in that cooling tent. 
 Let me, also, cheer a spot, 
 Hidden field or garden grot — 
 Place where passing souls can rest 
 On the way and be their best. 
 
 Edwin Markham 
 
 [245; 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 YOUNG LOCHINVAR 
 
 O, young Lochinvar is come out of the West! 
 Through all the wide Border his steed was the best; 
 And save his good broadsword, he weapons had none; 
 He rode all unarm'd, and he rode all alone. 
 So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war, 
 There never was knight like the young Lochinvar. 
 
 He stay'd not for brake and he stopp'd not for stone; 
 
 He swam the Eske river where ford there was none; 
 
 But ere he alighted at Netherby gate, 
 
 The bride had consented, the gallant came late; 
 
 For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war, 
 
 Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar. 
 
 So boldly he enter'd the Netherby Hall, 
 
 Among bridesmen, and kinsmen, and brothers, and all;- 
 
 Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his sword 
 
 (For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word), 
 
 'O, come ye in peace here, or come ye in war, 
 
 Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar?*' 
 
 'I long woo'd your daughter, my suit you denied; — 
 Love swells like the Sol way, but ebbs like its tide; — 
 And now I am come with this lost Love of mine 
 To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine. 
 
 [ *46 I 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 There are maidens in Scotland more lovely by far, 
 That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar!' 
 
 The bride kiss'd the goblet: the knight took it up, 
 He quaff'd off the wine and he threw down the cup. 
 She look'd down to blush, and she look'd up to sigh, 
 With a smile on her lips, and a tear in her eye. 
 He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bar, — 
 'Now tread we a measure!' said young Lochinvar. 
 
 So stately his form and so lovely her face, 
 
 That never a hall such a galliard did grace; 
 
 While her mother did fret, and her father did fume, 
 
 And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume; 
 
 And the bride-maidens whispered, " 'Twere better by far, 
 
 To have match'd our fair cousin with young Lochinvar ! ' 
 
 One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear, 
 When they reach'd the hall door, and the charger stood near; 
 So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung, 
 So light to the saddle before her he sprung! 
 'She is won! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur; 
 They'll have fleet steeds that follow,' quoth young 
 Lochinvar. 
 
 There was mounting 'mong Graemes of the Netherby clan, 
 Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran, 
 
 [2471 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 There was racing and chasing, on Cannobie lea, 
 But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see. 
 So daring in love, and so dauntless in war, 
 Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar? 
 
 Sir Walter Scott 
 
 [2iSl 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 OFF THE GROUND 
 
 Three jolly Farmers 
 
 Once bet a pound 
 Each dance the others would 
 
 Off the ground. 
 Out of their coats 
 
 They slipped right soon, 
 And neat and nicesome 
 
 Put each his shoon. 
 One— Two— Three !— 
 
 And away they go, 
 Not too fast, 
 
 And not too slow; 
 Out from the elm-tree's 
 
 Noonday shadow, 
 Into the sun 
 
 And across the meadow. 
 Past the schoolroom, 
 
 With knees well bent 
 Fingers a-flicking, 
 
 They dancing went. 
 Up sides and over, 
 
 And round and round, 
 They crossed click-clacking, 
 
 The Parish bound, 
 By Tupman's meadow 
 
 They did their mile, 
 
 [2491 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 Tee-to-tum 
 
 On a three-barred stile. 
 Then straight through Whipham, 
 
 Downhill to Week, 
 Footing it lightsome, 
 
 But not too quick, 
 Up fields to Watchet, 
 
 And on through Wye, 
 Till seven fine churches 
 
 They'd seen skip by — 
 Seven fine churches, 
 
 And five old mills, 
 Farms in the valley, 
 
 And sheep on the hills; 
 Old Man's Acre 
 
 And Dead Man's Pool 
 All left behind, 
 
 As they danced through Wool. 
 And Wool gone by, 
 
 Like tops that seem 
 To spin in sleep 
 
 They danced in dream: 
 Withy — Wellover — 
 
 Wassop — Wo — 
 Like an old clock 
 
 Their heels did go. 
 A league and a league 
 
 And a league they went, 
 
 [2501 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 And not one weary, 
 
 And not one spent. 
 And lo, and behold! 
 
 Past Willow-cum-Leigh 
 Stretched with its waters 
 
 The great green sea. 
 Says Farmer Bates, 
 
 "I puffs and I blows, 
 What's under the water, 
 
 Why, no man knows!" 
 Says Farmer Giles, 
 
 "My wind comes weak, 
 And a good man drownded 
 
 Is far to seek." 
 But Farmer Turvey, 
 
 On twirling toes 
 Up's with his gaiters, 
 
 And in he goes: 
 Down where the mermaids 
 
 Pluck and play 
 On their twangling harps 
 
 In a sea-green day; 
 Down where the mermaids, 
 
 Finned and fair, 
 Sleek with their combs 
 
 Their yellow hair. . . . 
 Bates and Giles — 
 
 On the shingle sat, 
 
 [253] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 Gazing at Turvey's 
 
 Floating hat. 
 But never a ripple 
 
 Nor bubble told 
 Where he was supping 
 
 Off plates of gold. 
 Never an echo 
 
 Rilled through the sea 
 Of the feasting and dancing 
 
 And minstrelsy. 
 They called — called — called : 
 
 Came no reply: 
 Nought but the ripples' 
 
 Sandy sigh. 
 Then glum and silent 
 
 They sat instead, 
 Vacantly brooding 
 
 On home and bed, 
 Till both together 
 
 Stood up and said: — 
 "Us knows not, dreams not, 
 
 Where you be, 
 Turvey, unless 
 
 In the deep blue sea; 
 But excusing silver — 
 
 And it comes most willing- 
 Here's us two paying 
 
 Our forty shilling; 
 
 [2541 
 
RAJNBOW GOLD 
 
 7^ 
 
 For it's sartin sure, Turvey, 
 
 Safe and sound, 
 You danced us square, Turvey, 
 
 Off the ground!" 
 
 Walter de la Mare 
 
 [255] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 AULD DADDY DARKNESS 
 
 Auld Daddy Darkness creeps frae his hole, 
 Black as a blackamoor, blin' as a mole: 
 Stir the fire till it lowes, let the bairnie sit, 
 Auld Daddy Darkness is no wantit yit. 
 
 See him in the corners hidin' frae the licht, 
 See him at the window gloomin' at the nicht; 
 Turn up the gas licht, close the shutters a', 
 An' Auld Daddy Darkness will flee far awa\ 
 
 Awa' to hide the birdie within its cosy nest, 
 Awa' to lap the wee flooers on their mither's breast, 
 Awa' to loosen Gaffer Toil frae his daily ca\ 
 For Auld Daddy Darkness is kindly to a'. 
 
 He comes when we're weary to wean's frae oor waes, 
 He comes when the bairnies are getting aff their claes; 
 To cover them sae cosy, an' bring bonnie dreams, 
 So Auld Daddy Darkness is better than he seems. 
 
 Steek yer een, my wee tot, ye'll see Daddy then; 
 He's in below the bed claes, to cuddle ye he's fain; 
 Noo nestle to his bosie, sleep and dream yer fill, 
 Till Wee Davie Daylight comes keekin' owre the hill. 
 
 James Ferguson 
 
 [256] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 Allengham, William (1824-1889) 
 
 The Fairies, 162 
 
 The Lepracaun, Ifi 
 Arnold, Matthew (1822-1888) 
 
 The Forsaken Merman, 152 
 Blake, William (1757-1827) 
 
 Nurse's Song, 158 
 
 The Tiger, 98 
 Branch, Anna Hempstead 
 (18- ) 
 
 A Song for My Mother, 215 
 Browning, Robert (1812-1889) 
 
 The Pied Piper of Hamelin, 109 
 
 Song (" The Year's at the Spring ")» 
 36 
 Bunyan, John (1628-1688) 
 
 The Pilgrim, 76 
 Burns, Robert (1759-1796) 
 
 Bannockburn, 138 
 
 To a Mouse, 159 
 Byron, Lord (1788-1824) 
 
 The Destruction of Sennacherib, 92 
 
 Coleridge, Samuel Taylor 
 (1772-1834) 
 
 Kubla Khan, 19 
 Colum, Padraic (1881- ) 
 
 The Terrible Robber Men, 100 
 Conkling, Hilda (1910- ) 
 
 Tree-Toad, 223 
 Cowper, William (1731-1800) 
 
 Epitaph on a Hare, 73 
 Cunningham, Allan (1784-1842) 
 
 A Sea Song, 72 
 
 [259] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 Davies, William H. (1870- ) 
 
 Nature's Friend, 221 
 DE la Make, Walteb (1873- ) 
 
 Berries, 2k 
 
 Jim Jay, 197 
 
 Off the Ground, 21& 
 Dickinson, Emily (1830-1886) 
 
 The Snow, 21k 
 Dobell, Sydney (1824-1874) 
 
 A Chanted Calendar, 11$ 
 
 Emebson, Ralph Waldo 
 (1803-1882) 
 Fable, lJfi 
 
 Febguson, James (?) 
 
 Auld Daddy Darkness, 256 
 
 Fbost, Robebt (1875- ) 
 Good Hours, lkl 
 
 Giffobd, Fannie Steabns 
 (1884- ) 
 
 Moon Folly, 189 
 Gbaves, Robert (1895- ) 
 
 Star-Talk, 193 
 
 Hebrick, Robebt (1591-1674) 
 
 To Violets, 38 
 Hodgson, Ralph (about 1879- ) 
 
 " Time, you Old Gipsy Man," 12k 
 Howe, Julia Waed (1819-1910) 
 
 Battle Hymn of the Republic, 133 
 Hunt, Leigh (1784-1859) 
 
 Jaffar, 87 
 
 [2601 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 Jonson, Ben (1574-1637) 
 Hymn to Diana, 59 
 
 Keats, John (1795-1821) 
 
 La Belle Dame Sans Merci, 168 
 Meg Merrilies, 22 
 
 Kingsley, Charles (1819-1875) 
 The Sands of Dee, 231,. 
 
 Lanier, Sidney (1842-1881) 
 Song of the Chattahoochee, 206 
 
 Lindsay, Vachel (1879- ) 
 The Ghosts of the Buffaloes, 199 
 
 Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth 
 (1807-1882) 
 My Lost Youth, ISO 
 The Skeleton in Armor, 237 
 
 Lowell, James Russell 
 (1819-1891) 
 The Fountain, 217 
 
 Macaulay, Thomas Babengton 
 (1800-1859) 
 Ivry, 94- 
 Markham, Edwin (1852- ) 
 
 A Prayer, 245 
 Marlowe, Christopher 
 (1562-1593) 
 The Shepherd to His Love, 62 
 Masefield, John (1874- ) 
 
 Sea Fever, 211 
 Milton, John (1608-1674) 
 On May Morning, 39 
 [261] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 Moore, Thomas (1780-1852) 
 By Bendemeer's Stream, 244 
 The Minstrel-Boy, 137 
 
 Nashe, Thomas (1567-1601?) 
 
 Spring, 175 
 Notes, Alfred (1880- ) 
 
 A Song of Sherwood, 89 
 
 Poe, Edgar Allen (1809-1849) 
 Israfel, 82 
 
 Rossetti, Christina (1830-1894) 
 A Christmas Carol, 203 
 
 Scott, Sir Walter (1771-1832) 
 Gathering Song of Donald Dhu, 135 
 Hunting Song, 44 
 Young Lochinvar, 246 
 Shakespeare, William 
 (1564-1616) 
 "Blow, Blow, Thou Winter Wind" 
 
 108 
 Lullaby for Titania, 78 
 " Under the Greenwood Tree" 37 
 Winter, 14$ 
 Shelley, Percy Bysshe 
 (1792-1822) 
 Hymn of Pan, 29 
 The Cloud, 145 
 Stevenson, Robert Louis 
 (1850-1894) 
 Escape at Bedtime, 205 
 Romance, 28 
 
 [262] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 Swinburne, Algernon Charles 
 (1837-1909) 
 " When the Hounds of Spring, " 32 
 
 Tennyson, Alfred (1809-1892) 
 Bugle Song, 151 
 The Lady of Shalott, Ifi 
 
 Unknown 
 
 An Ancient Christmas Carol, 225 
 An Old Christmas Carol, 226 
 An Old Song of Fairies, 186 
 King John and the Abbot of Can* 
 
 terbury, 228 
 Robin Hood and the Butcher, 64 
 Sir Patrick Spens, 101 
 Sister, Awake! 236 
 The Gay Gos-Hawk, 178 
 
 Whitman, Walt (1819-1892) 
 Captain! My Captainl 212 
 
 Wordsworth, William 
 (1770-1850) 
 "I Wandered Lonely," 176 
 The Solitary Reaper, 128 
 Written in March, 31 
 
 Yeats, William Butler 
 (1865- ) 
 The Song of Wandering Aengus, 60 
 
 (263] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 INDEX OF FIRST LINES 
 
 A wet sheet and a flowing sea 72 
 
 An ancient story I'll tell you anon 228 
 
 "Are you awake, Gemelli 193 
 
 As Joseph was a-waukin' 226 
 
 Auld Daddy Darkness creeps frae his hole 256 
 
 Behold her, single in the field 128 
 
 Blow, blow, thou winter wind 108 
 
 Come, all you brave gallants, and listen a while 64 
 
 Come, dear children, let us away 152 
 
 Come, follow, follow me 186 
 
 Come live with me and be my love 62 
 
 Do diddle di do 197 
 
 First came the primrose 143 
 
 From the forests and highlands 29 
 
 Hamelin Town's in Brunswick 109 
 
 He came all so still 225 
 
 Here lies, whom hound did ne'er pursue 73 
 
 I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers 145 
 
 I had for my winter evening walk 241 
 
 I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky . . 211 
 
 I wandered lonely as a cloud 176 
 
 I went out to the hazel wood 60 
 
 I will go up the mountain after the Moon 189 
 
 I will make you brooches and toys for your delight 28 
 
 In Heaven a spirit doth dwell 82 
 
 [265] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 In the bleak mid-winter 203 
 
 In Xanadu did Kubla Khan 19 
 
 Into the sunshine 217 
 
 It sifts from leaden sieves 214 
 
 Jaffar, the Barmecide, the good Vizier 87 
 
 Last night at black midnight I woke with a cry 199 
 
 Little Cowboy, what have you heard 40 
 
 Mine eyes nave seen the glory of the coming of the Lord .... 133 
 
 My mother's hands are cool and fair 215 
 
 Now glory to the Lord of Hosts, from whom all glories are! ... 94 
 
 Now the bright morning star, day's harbinger 39 
 
 O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done 212 
 
 O! I wish the sun was bright in the sky 100 
 
 "O Mary, go and call the cattle home 234 
 
 "O well is me, my gay gos-hawk 178 
 
 O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms 168 
 
 O, young Lochinvar is come out of the West! 246 
 
 Often I think of the beautiful town 130 
 
 Old Meg she was a Gipsy 22 
 
 On either side the river lie 46 
 
 Out of the hills of Habersham 206 
 
 Pibroch of Donuil Dhu 135 
 
 Queen and Huntress, chaste and fair 59 
 
 Say what you like 221 
 
 Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled 138 
 
 [266] 
 
RAINBOW GOLD 
 
 Sherwood in the twilight, is Robin Hood awake? 89 
 
 Sister, awake! close not your eyes! 236 
 
 "Speak! speak! thou fearful guest! 237 
 
 Spring, the sweet Spring, is the year's pleasant king 175 
 
 Teach me, Father, how to go 245 
 
 The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold 92 
 
 The Cock is crowing 31 
 
 The king sits in Dunfermline toun 101 
 
 The lights from the parlour and kitchen shone out 205 
 
 The Minstrel-boy to the war is gone 137 
 
 The mountain and the squirrel 140 
 
 The splendor falls on castle walls 151 
 
 The year's at the spring 36 
 
 There was an old woman 24 
 
 There's a bower of roses by Bendemeer's stream 244 
 
 Three jolly Farmers 249 
 
 Tiger! Tiger! burning bright 98 
 
 Time, you old gipsy man 124 
 
 Tree-toad is a small gray person 223 
 
 Under the greenwood tree 37 
 
 Up the airy mountain 162 
 
 Waken, lords and ladies gay! 44 
 
 Wee, sleekit, cow'rin', tim'rous beastie 159 
 
 Welcome, maids of honor 38 
 
 When icicles hang by the wall 142 
 
 When the hounds of spring are on winter's traces 32 
 
 When the voices of children are heard on the green 158 
 
 Who would true valor see 76 
 
 You spotted snakes with double tongue 78 
 
 [267] 
 
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