Part 10 (1/2)
Whoop! Whoop! They run: _The Pursuit._ The hare once spied, the hunt's begun!-- Goodman and goodman's wife, pert Polly, Clown Colin, Wiggen and maid Molly, Pant, crying, ”Thief!” The while behind Shrunk Dorcas hops, and fills the wind With apish merriment, shrill malice, And cries of--”Well run, Poll! Run, Alice!
Run, child! The master's cloak and all!
How sad the goodman's ta'en a fall!
Mistress down, too--he! he! what pity!
Run, Alice child, my bird, my pretty; Show 'em how nimble thou canst be,-- Ay, but the girl runs prettily.
Run, Hobbinol, thou gawky man!
Thou mayest kiss if catch thou can!
Odd's me! and what's it all about?
A thief? That mischief Faun!”
A shout Startles the pigeons from the croft: ”We've circled him!” ”He's in the loft.”
But as they, silent, crowd unto 't I jump. For am not I a goat?
From out the hayloft's height I leap O'er their craned heads into the deep Gra.s.s of the orchard. Thence I run Across lush meadows. One by one They fall behind....
A scarecrow I Now seek, and 'bout it carefully Enwrap the newly pilfered cloak....
Scarecrows are such poor crazy folk....
VIII
So to a th.o.r.n.y thicket dense _The Faun With rosy-coloured may-bloom, whence hides._ I can hear a torrent rumble, And, peering forth, behold it tumble c.u.mbrously into a pool whose white Tumult sears the giddied sight.
There, half dozed, silent, smile to hear A babble of voices drawing near, Spy many a boy and laughing la.s.s Racing hands-linked across the gra.s.s.
_Boys and Girls._ Now has the blue-eyed Spring Sped dancing through the plain. A CATCH Girls weave a daisy chain; FOR SPRING.
Boys race beside the sedge; Dust fills the blinding lane; May lies upon the hedge: All creatures love the spring!
The clouds laugh on, and would Dance with us if they could; The larks ascend and shrill; A woodp.e.c.k.e.r fills the wood; Jays laugh crossing the hill: All creatures love the spring!
The lithe cloud-shadows chase Over the whole earth's face, And where winds ruffling veer O'er wooded streams' dark ways Mad fish upscudding steer: All creatures love the spring!
Into the dairy cool Run, girls, to drink thick cream!
Race, boys, to where the stream Winds through a rumbling pool, And your bright bodies fling Into the foaming cool!
For we'll enjoy our spring!
IX
Seaward my forest way I'll take, _Of the Faun's And at a pool's lit quietude slake Journey to the Sea._ My thirst, and feel a dull flame creep Like the first flux of tidal sleep Through all my limbs. Yet, when I sink Sleepward, start wide-eyed up to drink The sunned wood's wet deliciousness, Touch flowers, and feel the sun's caress About my locks, and wander on, Or pause to smile up at the sun, Guarding my eyes with glowing hand, Or, leaned against a beech-trunk, stand Watching between the branches' rift, As they gently wave and lift To the bland breeze softly blowing, The noiseless clouds serenely going Slowly to the hid, low sea I can hear breathing slumberously.
Till from the woodland I emerge, Greeted by a louder surge, And from the bushy cliff-top spy How the hollow bay doth lie One quiver and murmur under the sun, And how the lightsome wind-puffs run Chasing each other crookedly, Over the idly heaving sea.
Next I will turn my eyes, perhaps, _Of the To where the languid waters lapse Sea-Horses._ Glittering over a sunburned rock Round which the shrieking white gulls flock....
Thus browsing in my solitude, I may remember I've a feud With the Sea-Horses, once who drave Me from the sea-light of their cave.
Enough! and, cras.h.i.+ng down, I come To find them drowsing in their home....
So creep I with a crooked stick To where a blinding pool is quick With green electric water-snakes.
Sprawling across a rock which bakes I stir the molten till they boil And up my hawthorn kick and coil; Then scamper, rocketing, to the cave, Hurl the stick in. Hark! how they rave, And plunge up clattering, kicking, neighing, Till Triton on his horn 'gins braying, And each hasteneth to belabour With hooves or tear with teeth his neighbour, And from the cavern's blueness rush Into the simmering beach's hush, To stand, with heaving flanks, agaze At the hot stones and still sea's blaze: Then stampede, scattering high and wide A hail of stones and glittering tide.
X
I will walk the sunny wood, _Of the Faun Deep and tranquil as my mood, in his And watch how the honeyed sunlight is Meditation._ Hung in the great boughs of the trees, And the pattern the branchwork weaves Under the panoply of leaves, And how high up two b.u.t.terflies Pa.s.s, vaulting, out into the skies.
Or, entering a silent glade, Draw a sharp breath and stand dismayed At beauty which doth straight present Such a spasm of ravishment Sight is confused, and doth confess Her wreck in voiceless tenderness: Seeing the flower-decked cherry-trees-- Unruffled ever by any breeze, Unburned by bright dawn's fiery chill-- Standing celestially still....
Or lay me down 'neath chestnut boughs, And drowse and dream and dream and drowse, Drunk with the greenness overhead, Until a blossom of sharp red, Shook from her high and scalding place, Splash with chill scent my upturned face.