Set thy tail in a blaze, That all the world may gaze From Ocean, the great sea, To the plain of Salisbury. 7. Skelton CXLV TO A BUTTERFLY I've watch'd you now a full half-hour, I know not if you sleep or feed. What joy awaits you, when the breeze This plot of orchard-ground is ours ; Here rest your wings when they are weary ; Here lodge as in a sanctuary! Come often to us, fear no wrong; Sit near us on the bough! We'll talk of sunshine and of song, And summer days when we were young; As twenty days are now. W. Wordsworth CXLVI THE DRAGON OF WANTLEY Old stories tell how Hercules A dragon slew at Lerna, With seven heads and fourteen eyes, But he had a club, this dragon to drub, This dragon had two furious wings, Have you not heard how the Trojan horse That could not with him grapple ; As one would eat an apple. All sorts of cattle this dragon would eat, Some say he ate up trees, And that the forests sure he would Devour up by degrees: For houses and churches were to him geese and turkies; He ate all and left none behind, But some stones, dear Jack, that he could not crack, Which on the hills you will find. Hard by a furious knight there dwelt ; O save us all, More of More-hall, Thou peerless knight of these woods; Do but slay this dragon, who won't leave us a rag on, We'll give thee all our goods. This being done, he did engage With spikes all about, not within but without, Of steel so sharp and strong, Both behind and before, arms, legs, and all o'er, Had you but seen him in this dress, He frighted all, cats, dogs, and all, Each cow, each horse, and each hog: For fear they did flee, for they took him to be Some strange, outlandish hedge-hog. To see this fight all people then Got up on trees and houses, On churches some, and chimneys too; Not to spoil their hose. As soon as he rose, It is not strength that always wins, Which made our cunning champion Creep down into a well, Where he did think this dragon would drink, And so he did in truth; And as he stoop'd low, he rose up and cried, boh! And kick'd him in the mouth. Oh, quoth the dragon with a deep sigh, More of More-hall, O thou rascal, Would I had seen thee never; With the thing at thy foot thou hast prick'd my throat, And I'm quite undone for ever. Murder, murder, the dragon cried, Alack, alack, for grief; Had you but miss'd that place, you could Have done me no mischief. Then his head he shaked, trembled and quaked, And down he laid and cried; First on one knee, then on back tumbled he ; So groan'd, and kick'd, and died. Old Ballad CXLVII THE UNGRATEFUL CUPID At dead of night, when mortals lose That's come to beg your charity; |