Little one, come to my knee!
Hark, how the rain is pouring
Over the roof, in the pitch-black night,
And the wind in the woods a-roaring!
Hark, how the rain is pouring
Over the roof, in the pitch-black night,
And the wind in the woods a-roaring!
II
Hush, my darling, and listen,
Then pay for the story with kisses;
Father was lost in the pitch-black night,
In just such a storm as this is!
Then pay for the story with kisses;
Father was lost in the pitch-black night,
In just such a storm as this is!
III
High up on the lonely mountains,
Where the wild men watched and waited;
Wolves in the forest, and bears in the bush,
And I on my path belated.
Where the wild men watched and waited;
Wolves in the forest, and bears in the bush,
And I on my path belated.
IV
The rain and the night together
Came down and the wind came after,
Bending the props of the pine-tree roof,
And snapping many a rafter.
Came down and the wind came after,
Bending the props of the pine-tree roof,
And snapping many a rafter.
V
I crept along in the darkness,
Stunned, and bruised, and blinded, -
Crept to a fir with thick-set boughs,
And a sheltering rock behind it.
Stunned, and bruised, and blinded, -
Crept to a fir with thick-set boughs,
And a sheltering rock behind it.
VI
There, from the blowing and raining,
Crouching, I sought to hide me:
Something rustled, two green eyes shone,
And a wolf lay down beside me.
Crouching, I sought to hide me:
Something rustled, two green eyes shone,
And a wolf lay down beside me.
VII
Little one, be not frightened;
I and the wolf together,
Side by side, through the long, long night,
Hid from the awful weather.
I and the wolf together,
Side by side, through the long, long night,
Hid from the awful weather.
VIII
His wet fur pressed against me;
Each of us warmed the other;
Each of us felt, in the stormy dark,
That beast and man was brother.
Each of us warmed the other;
Each of us felt, in the stormy dark,
That beast and man was brother.
IX
And when the falling forest
No longer crashed in warning,
Each of us went from our hiding-place
Forth in the wild, wet morning.
No longer crashed in warning,
Each of us went from our hiding-place
Forth in the wild, wet morning.
X
Darling, kiss me payment!
Hark, how the wind is roaring;
Father's house is a better place
When the stormy rain is pouring!
Hark, how the wind is roaring;
Father's house is a better place
When the stormy rain is pouring!
________________
The Political Works of Bayard Taylor, Houghton, Mifflin and Company, 1883.
No comments:
Post a Comment
The following are subject to deletion:
--Comments with outside links
--Off topic comments
--Advertising and general spam
--Hate speech
--Name calling
--Bad language
--Accusations
--Pornography