Page:The whistle maker, and other poems (IA whistlemakerothe00rick).pdf/4

 

Tweedle-tweet-e-tweedle-tweet
 * Comes the call across the years;

Gently stealing clear and sweet,
 * Bringing smiles or tears.

Willows swaying in the wind,
 * Mossy banks of stream below,

Children, chicks and kindred kin
 * Gather round to see the show.

Gray of hair but young of heart,
 * Youth still singing in your soul,

Master of an ancient art—
 * Liquid notes around you roll.

Orpheus playing to the beasts,
 * Music-maker to the stones,

Faunus at the Roman feasts;
 * Syrinx-like are all your tones.

Breeze and birds join in your song,
 * Feet of young things round you race,

Pan still leads the way along
 * As he did in Golden Thrace.

Barks for whistles you know well,
 * Learned them in Olympian woods

E'er the gods by mortals fell
 * You were fashioning your goods.

"Whistles, for one baby's kiss;
 * (With much haggling on the trade)

Bargains now you must not miss
 * Step up, do not be afraid!"

You have cheated from the start.
 * You have played an unfair game,

Sold the whistle, stole the heart,
 * Robbers always are the same.

