



 


|
Frederick
George Scott
COLLECTED
POEMS
The
Sprite
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A little sprite sat on a moonbeam,
When the night was waning
away,
And over the world to the eastward
Spread the first faint flush
of the day.
The moonbeam was cold and slippery,
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And
a fat little fairy was he;
Around him the white clouds were sleeping,
And under him slumbered
the sea.
Then the old moon looked out of her left eye,
And laughed when she thought
of the fun,
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For
she knew that the moonbeam he sat on
Would soon melt away in
the sun;
So she gave a slight shrug of her shoulders,
And winked at a bright little
star—
The moon was remarkably knowing,
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| As
old people always are.
‘Great Madam’, then answered the
fairy,
‘No doubt you are
wonderfully wise,
And know probably more than another
Of the ins and the outs
of the skies.
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But
to think that we don’t in our own way
An interest in sky-things
take,
Is a common and fatal blunder
That sometimes you great
ones make.
‘For I’ve looked up from under the
heather,
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And
watched you night after night,
And marked your silent motion,
And the fall of your silvery
light.
I have seen you grow larger and larger,
I have watched you fade
away;
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I
have seen you turn pale as a snowdrop
At the sudden approach of
day. [Page 40]
‘So don’t think for a moment, great
Madam,
Though a poor little body
I be,
That I haven’t my senses about me,
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Or
am going to drop into the sea.
I have had what you only could give me—
A pleasant night ride in
the sky;
But a new power arises to eastward,
So now, useless old lady,
good-bye.’
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40 |
He whistled a low, sweet whistle,
And up from the earth so
dark,
With its wings bespangled with dewdrops,
There bounded a merry lark.
He’s mounted the tiny singer,
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45 |
And
soared through the heavens away,
With his face all aglow in the morning,
And a song for the rising
day. [Page 41]
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