When slim Sophia mounts her horse
  And paces down the avenue,
It seems an inward melody
      She paces to.

THE THREE BEGGARS

’Twas autumn daybreak gold and wild,
  While past St. Ann’s grey tower they shuffled,
Three beggars spied a fairy-child
    In crimson mantle muffled.

The daybreak lighted up her face
  All pink, and sharp, and emerald-eyed;
She looked on them a little space,
    And shrill as hautboy cried:—­

“O three tall footsore men of rags
  Which walking this gold morn I see,
What will ye give me from your bags
    For fairy kisses three?”

The first, that was a reddish man,
  Out of his bundle takes a crust: 
“La, by the tombstones of St. Ann,
    There’s fee, if fee ye must!”

The second, that was a chestnut man,
  Out of his bundle draws a bone: 
“Lo, by the belfry of St. Ann,
    And all my breakfast gone!”

The third, that was a yellow man,
  Out of his bundle picks a groat,
“La, by the Angel of St. Ann,
    And I must go without.”

That changeling, lean and icy-lipped,
  Touched crust, and bone, and groat, and lo! 
Beneath her finger taper-tipped
    The magic all ran through.

Instead of crust a peacock pie,
  Instead of bone sweet venison,
Instead of groat a white lily
    With seven blooms thereon.

And each fair cup was deep with wine: 
  Such was the changeling’s charity,
The sweet feast was enough for nine,
    But not too much for three.

O toothsome meat in jelly froze! 
  O tender haunch of elfin stag! 
O rich the odour that arose! 
    O plump with scraps each bag!

There, in the daybreak gold and wild,
  Each merry-hearted beggar man
Drank deep unto the fairy child,
    And blessed the good St. Ann.

THE DWARF

“Now, Jinnie, my dear, to the dwarf be off,
  That lives in Barberry Wood,
And fetch me some honey, but be sure you don’t laugh,—­
  He hates little girls that are rude, are rude,
    He hates little girls that are rude.”

Jane tapped at the door of the house in the wood,
  And the dwarf looked over the wall,
He eyed her so queer, ’twas as much as she could
  To keep from laughing at all, at all,
    To keep from laughing at all.

His shoes down the passage came clod, clod, clod,
  And when he opened the door,
He croaked so harsh, ’twas as much as she could
  To keep from laughing the more, the more,
    To keep from laughing the more.

As there, with his bushy red beard, he stood,
  Pricked out to double its size,
He squinted so cross, ’twas as much as she could
  To keep the tears out of her eyes, her eyes,
    To keep the tears out of her eyes.