Page:Dickens - A Child s History of England, 1900.djvu/507

Rh And once (the boy remember'd

That morning many a day—

The dew lay on the hawthorn,

The bird sang on the spray) A train of horsemen, nobler Than he had seen before, Up from the distance gallop' d, And paused before the door.

Upon the milk-white pony, Fit for a fairy queen, Was the loveliest little damsel His eyes had ever seen; A servant-man was holding The leading rein, to guide The pony and its mistress Who cantered by his side.

Her sunny ringlets round her A golden cloud had made, While her large hat was keeping Her calm blue eyes in shade; One hand held firm the silken reins To keep her steed in check, The other pulled his tangled mane, Or stroked his glossy neck.

And as the boy brought water, And loosed the rein, he heard The sweetest voice, that thanked him In one low, gentle word; She turned her blue eyes from him, Look'd up and smiled to see The hanging purple blossoms Upon the Judas Tree. And show'd it with a gesture, Half pleading, half command, Till he broke the fairest blossom, And laid it in her hand; And she tied it to her saddle, With a ribbon from her hair, While her happy laugh rang gayly, Like silver on the air.

But the champing steeds were rested— The horsemen now spurr'd on, And down the dusty highway They vanished and were gone. Years pass'd, and many a traveller Paused at the old inn-door. But the little milk-white pony And the child return' d no more.