1882.

THE TOWN OF DAE.

  Swains and maidens, young and old,
  You to me this tale have told.

  Where the squalid town of Dae
  Irks the comfortable sea,
  Spreading webs to gather fish,
  As for wealth we set a wish,
  Dwelt a king by right divine,
  Sprung from Adam’s royal line,
    Town of Dae by the sea,
    Divers kinds of kings there be.

  Name nor fame had Picklepip: 
  Ne’er a soldier nor a ship
  Bore his banners in the sun;
    Naught knew he of kingly sport,
    And he held his royal court
  Under an inverted tun. 
  Love and roses, ages through,
    Bloom where cot and trellis stand;
  Never yet these blossoms grew—­
  Never yet was room for two—­
    In a cask upon the strand.

  So it happened, as it ought,
  That his simple schemes he wrought
  Through the lagging summer’s day
  In a solitary way. 
  So it happened, as was best,
  That he took his nightly rest
    With no dreadful incubus
  This way eyed and that way tressed,
    Featured thus, and thus, and thus,
  Lying lead-like on a breast
  By cares of State enough oppressed. 
  Yet in dreams his fancies rude
  Claimed a lordly latitude. 
    Town of Dae by the sea,
  Dreamers mate above their state
    And waken back to their degree.

  Once to cask himself away
  He prepared at close of day. 
  As he tugged with swelling throat
  At a most unkingly coat—­
  Not to get it off, but on,
  For the serving sun was gone—­
  Passed a silk-appareled sprite
  Toward her castle on the height,
  Seized and set the garment right. 
  Turned the startled Picklepip—­
  Splendid crimson cheek and lip! 
  Turned again to sneak away,

  But she bade the villain stay,
  Bade him thank her, which he did
  With a speech that slipped and slid,
  Sprawled and stumbled in its gait
  As a dancer tries to skate. 
    Town of Dae by the sea,
  In the face of silk and lace
    Rags too bold should never be.

  Lady Minnow cocked her head: 
  “Mister Picklepip,” she said,
  “Do you ever think to wed?”
    Town of Dae by the sea,
  No fair lady ever made a
    Wicked speech like that to me!

  Wretched little Picklepip
  Said he hadn’t any ship,
  Any flocks at his command,
  Nor to feed them any land;
  Said he never in his life
  Owned a mine to keep a wife. 
  But the guilty stammer so
  That his meaning wouldn’t flow;
  So he thought his aim to reach
  By some figurative speech: 
  Said his Fate had been unkind
  Had pursued him from behind
    (How the mischief could it else?)

  Came upon him unaware,
  Caught him by the collar—­there
  Gushed the little lady’s glee
    Like a gush of golden bells: 
  “Picklepip, why, that is me!”
    Town of Dae by the sea,
  Grammar’s for great scholars—­she
    Loved the summer and the lea.