Peak and Puke
From his cradle in the glamourie
They have stolen my wee brother,
Housed a changeling in his swaddlings
For to fret my own poor mother.
Pules it in the candle light
Wi’ a cheek so lean and white,
Chinkling up its eyne so wee
Wailing shrill at her an’ me.
It we’ll neither rock nor tend
Till the Silent Silent send,
Lapping in their awesome arms
Him they stole with spells and charms,
Till they take this changeling creature
Back to its own fairy nature —
Cry! Cry! As long as may be,
Ye shall ne’er be woman’s baby!
THE CHANGELING
‘Ahoy, and ahoy!’
’Twixt mocking and merry —
‘Ahoy and ahoy, there,
Young man of the ferry!’
She stood on the steps
In the watery gloom —-
That Changeling —‘Ahoy, there!’
She called him to come.
He came on the green wave,
He came on the grey,
Where stooped that sweet lady
That still summer’s day.
He fell in a dream
Of her beautiful face,
As she sat on the thwart
And smiled in her place.
No echo his oar woke,
Float silent did they,
Past low-grazing cattle
In the sweet of the hay.
And still in a dream
At her beauty sat he,
Drifting stern foremost
Down — down to the sea.
Come you, then: call,
When the twilight apace
Brings shadow to brood
On the loveliest face;
You shall hear o’er the water
Ring faint in the grey —-
‘Ahoy, and ahoy, there!’
And tremble away;
‘Ahoy, and ahoy!…’
And tremble away.