’Tis moonlight on Trebarwith Vale,
  And moonlight on an Ogre keen,
Who, prowling hungry through the dale,
  A lone cottage hath seen.

Small, with thin smoke ascending up,
  Three casements and a door—­
The Ogre eager is to tap,
  And here seems dainty store.

Sweet as a larder to a mouse,
  So to him staring down,
Seemed the small-windowed moonlit house,
  With jasmine overgrown.

He snorted, as the billows snort
  In darkness of the night;
Betwixt his lean locks tawny-swart,
  He glowered on the sight.

Into the garden sweet with peas
  He put his wooden shoe,
And bending back the apple trees
  Crept covetously through;

Then, stooping, with a gloating eye
  Stared through the lattice small,
And spied two children which did lie
  Asleep, against the wall.

Into their dreams no shadow fell
  Of his disastrous thumb
Groping discreet, and gradual,
  Across the quiet room.

But scarce his nail had scraped the cot
  Wherein these children lay,
As if his malice were forgot,
  It suddenly did stay.

For faintly in the ingle-nook
  He heard a cradle-song,
That rose into his thoughts and woke
  Terror them among.

For she who in the kitchen sat
  Darning by the fire,
Guileless of what he would be at,
  Sang sweet as wind or wire:—­

“Lullay, thou little tiny child,
  By-by, lullay, lullie;
Jesu in glory, meek and mild,
  This night remember thee!

“Fiend, witch, and goblin, foul and wild,
  He deems them smoke to be;
Lullay, thou little tiny child,
  By-by, lullay, lullie!”

The Ogre lifted up his eyes
  Into the moon’s pale ray,
And gazed upon her leopard-wise,
  Cruel and clear as day;

He snarled in gluttony and fear—­
  “The wind blows dismally—­
Jesu in storm my lambs be near,
  By-by, lullay, lullie!”

And like a ravenous beast which sees
  The hunter’s icy eye,
So did this wretch in wrath confess
  Sweet Jesu’s mastery.

Lightly he drew his greedy thumb
  From out that casement pale,
And strode, enormous, swiftly home,
  Whinnying down the dale.

DAME HICKORY

  “Dame Hickory, Dame Hickory,
    Here’s sticks for your fire,
  Furze-twigs, and oak-twigs,
    And beech-twigs, and briar!”
But when old Dame Hickory came for to see,
She found ’twas the voice of the False Faerie.

  “Dame Hickory, Dame Hickory,
    Here’s meat for your broth,
  Goose-flesh, and hare’s flesh,
    And pig’s trotters both!”
But when old Dame Hickory came for to see,
She found ’twas the voice of the False Faerie.

 “Dame Hickory, Dame Hickory,
    Here’s a wolf at your door,
  His teeth grinning white,
    And his tongue wagging sore!”
“Nay!” said Dame Hickory, “ye False Faerie! 
But a wolf ’twas indeed, and famished was he.