| On the top of the Crumpetty Tree |
| The Quangle Wangle sat, |
| But his face you could not see, |
| On account of his Beaver Hat. |
| For his hat was a hundred and two feet wide, |
| With ribbons and bibbons on every side, |
| And bells, and buttons, and loops, and lace, |
| So that nobody ever could see the face |
| Of the Quangle Wangle Quee. |
| |
| The Quangle Wangle said |
| To himself on the Crumpetty Tree, |
| "Jam, and jelly, and bread |
| Are the best of food for me! |
| But the longer I live on this Crumpetty Tree |
| The plainer than ever it seems to me |
| That very few people come this way |
| And that life on the whole is far from gay!" |
| Said the Quangle Wangle Quee. |
| |
| But there came to the Crumpetty Tree |
| Mr. and Mrs. Canary; |
| And they said, "Did ever you see |
| Any spot so charmingly airy? |
| May we build a nest on your lovely Hat? |
| Mr. Quangle Wangle, grant us that! |
| Oh, please let us come and build a nest |
| Of whatever material suits you best, |
| Mr. Quangle Wangle Quee!" |
| |
| And besides, to the Crumpetty Tree |
| Came the Stork, the Duck, and the Owl; |
| The Snail and the Bumblebee, |
| The Frog and the Fimble Fowl |
| (The Fimble Fowl, with a corkscrew leg); |
| And all of them said, "We humbly beg |
| We may build our homes on your lovely Hat,— |
| Mr. Quangle Wangle, grant us that! |
| Mr. Quangle Wangle Quee!" |
| |
| And the Golden Grouse came there, |
| And the Pobble who has no toes, |
| And the small Olympian bear, |
| And the Dong with a luminous nose. |
| And the Blue Baboon who played the flute, |
| And the Orient Calf from the Land of Tute, |
| And the Attery Squash, and the Bisky Bat,— |
| All came and built on the lovely Hat |
| Of the Quangle Wangle Quee. |
| |
| And the Quangle Wangle said |
| To himself on the Crumpetty Tree, |
| "When all these creatures move |
| What a wonderful noise there'll be!" |
| And at night by the light of the Mulberry Moon |
| They danced to the Flute of the Blue Baboon, |
| On the broad green leaves of the Crumpetty Tree, |
| And all were as happy as happy could be, |
| With the Quangle Wangle Quee. |
| |
| Edward Lear. |
| I |
| "What fairings will ye that I bring?" |
| Said the King to his daughters three; |
| "For I to Vanity Fair am boun, |
| Now say what shall they be?" |
| |
| Then up and spake the eldest daughter, |
| That lady tall and grand: |
| "Oh, bring me pearls and diamonds great, |
| And gold rings for my hand." |
| |
| Thereafter spake the second daughter, |
| That was both white and red: |
| "For me bring silks that will stand alone, |
| And a gold comb for my head." |
| |
| Then came the turn of the least daughter, |
| That was whiter than thistle-down, |
| And among the gold of her blithesome hair |
| Dim shone the golden crown. |
| |
| "There came a bird this morning, |
| And sang 'neath my bower eaves, |
| Till I dreamed, as his music made me, |
| 'Ask thou for the Singing Leaves.'" |
| |
| Then the brow of the King swelled crimson |
| With a flush of angry scorn: |
| "Well have ye spoken, my two eldest, |
| And chosen as ye were born, |
| |
| "But she, like a thing of peasant race, |
| That is happy binding the sheaves"; |
| Then he saw her dead mother in her face, |
| And said, "Thou shalt have thy leaves." |
| |
| II |
| He mounted and rode three days and nights |
| Till he came to Vanity Fair, |
| And 'twas easy to buy the gems and the silk, |
| But no Singing Leaves were there. |
| |
| Then deep in the greenwood rode he, |
| And asked of every tree, |
| "Oh, if you have, ever a Singing Leaf, |
| I pray you give it me!" |
| |
| But the trees all kept their counsel, |
| And never a word said they, |
| Only there sighed from the pine-tops |
| A music of seas far away. |
| Only the pattering aspen |
| Made a sound of growing rain, |
| That fell ever faster and faster. |
| Then faltered to silence again. |
| |
| "Oh, where shall I find a little foot-page |
| That would win both hose and shoon, |
| And will bring to me the Singing Leaves |
| If they grow under the moon?" |
| |
| Then lightly turned him Walter the page, |
| By the stirrup as he ran: |
| "Now pledge you me the truesome word |
| Of a king and gentleman, |
| |
| "That you will give me the first, first thing |
| You meet at your castle-gate, |
| And the Princess shall get the Singing Leaves, |
| Or mine be a traitor's fate." |
| |
| The King's head dropt upon his breast |
| A moment, as it might be; |
| 'Twill be my dog, he thought, and said, |
| "My faith I plight to thee." |
| |
| Then Walter took from next his heart |
| A packet small and thin, |
| "Now give you this to the Princess Anne, |
| The Singing Leaves are therein." |
| |
| III |
| As the King rode in at his castle-gate, |
| A maiden to meet him ran, |
| And "Welcome, father!" she laughed and cried |
| Together, the Princess Anne. |
| |
| "Lo, here the Singing Leaves," quoth he, |
| "And woe, but they cost me dear!" |
| She took the packet, and the smile |
| Deepened down beneath the tear. |
| |
| It deepened down till it reached her heart, |
| And then gushed up again, |
| And lighted her tears as the sudden sun |
| Transfigures the summer rain. |
| |
| And the first Leaf, when it was opened, |
| Sang: "I am Walter the page, |
| And the songs I sing 'neath thy window |
| Are my only heritage." |
| |
| And the second Leaf sang: "But in the land |
| That is neither on earth nor sea, |
| My lute and I are lords of more |
| Than thrice this kingdom's fee." |
| |
| And the third Leaf sang, "Be mine! Be mine!" |
| And ever it sang, "Be mine!" |
| Then sweeter it sang and ever sweeter, |
| And said, "I am thine, thine, thine!" |
| |
| At the first Leaf she grew pale enough, |
| At the second she turned aside, |
| At the third,'twas as if a lily flushed |
| With a rose's red heart's tide. |
| |
| "Good counsel gave the bird," said she, |
| "I have my hope thrice o'er, |
| For they sing to my very heart," she said, |
| "And it sings to them evermore." |
| |
| She brought to him her beauty and truth, |
| But and broad earldoms three, |
| And he made her queen of the broader lands |
| He held of his lute in fee. |
| |
| James Russell Lowell. |