Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900.
By GeorgeHill145 Song of the Elfin Steersman
O
For the small pearl; and one,
The honey-bee for his bag he
Goes chasing in the sun;
And one, the knave, has pilfered from
The nautilus his boat,
And takes his idle pastime where
The water-lilies float.
By the light of the will-o’-wisp follow;
And others, they trip where the alders dip
Their leaves in the watery hollow;
And one is with the firefly’s lamp
Lighting his love to bed:
Sprites, away! elf and fay,
And see them hither sped.
Of spider’s web—anon
The ghost will have fled to his grave-bed,
And the bat winked in the sun.
Haste! for the ship, till the moon dip
Her horn, I did but borrow;
And crowing cocks are fairy clocks,
That mind us of to-morrow.
And the day-star dim her horn,
O blow, then, blow, till not a wave
Leap from the deep unshorn!
Blow, sweep their white tops into mist,
As merrily we roam,
Till the wide sea one bright sheet be,
One sheet of fire and foam.
And toss it to the sky,—
Till the sands we tread of the ocean-bed,
As the summer fountains dry.
The upper shelves are ours, my elves,
Are ours, and soon the nether
With sea-flowers we shall sprinkled see,
And pearls like dew-drops gather.
And then our course is up;
Our frigate then the cockle-shell,
Our boat the bean-flower cup.
Sprites away! elf and fay,
From thicket, lake, and hollow;
The blind bat, look! flits to his nook,
And we must quickly follow.
A gallant crew. But list!
I hear the crow of the cock—O blow,
Till the sea-foam drift like mist.
Fairies, haste! flood and blast
Quickly bring, and stay
The moon’s horn—look! to his nook
The blind bat flits—away!