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The poetical works of George MacDonald in two volumes — Volume 2
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Flew Birdie Brown, her song in her heart.
Boy Blue came where apples grew fair and sweet:
"Tree, drop me an apple down at my feet."
He came where cherries hung plump and red:
"Come to my mouth, sweet kisses," he said.
And the boughs bow down, and the apples they dapple
The grass, too many for him to grapple;
And the cheeriest cherries, with never a miss,
Fall to his mouth, each a full-grown kiss.
He met a little brook singing a song:
"Little brook," he said, "you are going wrong,
"You must follow me, follow me, follow, I say,
Do as I tell you, and come this way."
And the song-singing, sing-songing forest brook
Leapt from its bed and after him took;
And the dead leaves rustled, yellow and wan,
As over their beds the water ran.
He called every bird that sat on a bough;
He called every creature with poop and prow—
I mean, with two ends, that is, nose and tail:
With legs or without, they followed full sail;
Squirrels that carried their tails like a sack,
Each his own on his little brown humpy back;
Snails that drew their own caravans,
Poking out their own eyes on the point of a lance,
And houseless slugs, white, black, and red—
Snails too lazy to build a shed;
And butterflies, flutterbys, weasels, and larks,
And owls, and shrew-mice, and harkydarks,
Cockchafers, henchafers, cockioli-birds,
Cockroaches, henroaches, cuckoos in herds;
The dappled fawns fawning, the fallow-deer following;
The swallows and flies, flying and swallowing—
All went flitting, and sailing, and flowing
After the merry boy running and blowing.
The spider forgot, and followed him spinning,
And lost all his thread from end to beginning;
The gay wasp forgot his rings and his waist—
He never had made such undignified haste!
The dragon-flies melted to mist with their hurrying;
The mole forsook his harrowing and burrowing;
The bees went buzzing, not busy but beesy,
And the midges in columns, upright and easy.
But Little Boy Blue was not content,
Calling for followers still as he went,
Blowing his horn, and beating his drum,
And crying aloud, "Come all of you, come!"
He said to the shadows, "Come after me;"
And the shadows began to flicker and flee,
And away through the wood went flattering and fluttering,
Shaking and quivering, quavering and muttering.
He said to the wind, "Come, follow; come, follow
With whistle and pipe, with rustle and hollo;"
And the wind wound round at his desire,
As if Boy had been the gold cock on the spire;
And the cock itself flew down from the church
And left the farmers all in the lurch.
Everything, everything, all and sum,
They run and they fly, they creep and they come;
The very trees they tugged at their roots,
Only their feet were too fast in their boots—
After him leaning and straining and bending,
As on through their boles the army kept wending,
Till out of the wood Boy burst on a lea,
Shouting and calling, "Come after me,"
And then they rose with a leafy hiss
And stood as if nothing had been amiss.
Little Boy Blue sat down on a stone,
And the creatures came round him every one.
He said to the clouds, "I want you there!"
And down they sank through the thin blue air.
He said to the sunset far in the west,
"Come here; I want you; 'tis my behest!"
And the sunset came and stood up on the wold,
And burned and glowed in purple and gold.
Then Little Boy Blue began to ponder:
"What's to be done with them all, I wonder!"
He thought a while, then he said, quite low,
"What to do with you all, I am sure I don't know!"
The clouds clodded down till dismal it grew;
Boy Blue came where apples grew fair and sweet:
"Tree, drop me an apple down at my feet."
He came where cherries hung plump and red:
"Come to my mouth, sweet kisses," he said.
And the boughs bow down, and the apples they dapple
The grass, too many for him to grapple;
And the cheeriest cherries, with never a miss,
Fall to his mouth, each a full-grown kiss.
He met a little brook singing a song:
"Little brook," he said, "you are going wrong,
"You must follow me, follow me, follow, I say,
Do as I tell you, and come this way."
And the song-singing, sing-songing forest brook
Leapt from its bed and after him took;
And the dead leaves rustled, yellow and wan,
As over their beds the water ran.
He called every bird that sat on a bough;
He called every creature with poop and prow—
I mean, with two ends, that is, nose and tail:
With legs or without, they followed full sail;
Squirrels that carried their tails like a sack,
Each his own on his little brown humpy back;
Snails that drew their own caravans,
Poking out their own eyes on the point of a lance,
And houseless slugs, white, black, and red—
Snails too lazy to build a shed;
And butterflies, flutterbys, weasels, and larks,
And owls, and shrew-mice, and harkydarks,
Cockchafers, henchafers, cockioli-birds,
Cockroaches, henroaches, cuckoos in herds;
The dappled fawns fawning, the fallow-deer following;
The swallows and flies, flying and swallowing—
All went flitting, and sailing, and flowing
After the merry boy running and blowing.
The spider forgot, and followed him spinning,
And lost all his thread from end to beginning;
The gay wasp forgot his rings and his waist—
He never had made such undignified haste!
The dragon-flies melted to mist with their hurrying;
The mole forsook his harrowing and burrowing;
The bees went buzzing, not busy but beesy,
And the midges in columns, upright and easy.
But Little Boy Blue was not content,
Calling for followers still as he went,
Blowing his horn, and beating his drum,
And crying aloud, "Come all of you, come!"
He said to the shadows, "Come after me;"
And the shadows began to flicker and flee,
And away through the wood went flattering and fluttering,
Shaking and quivering, quavering and muttering.
He said to the wind, "Come, follow; come, follow
With whistle and pipe, with rustle and hollo;"
And the wind wound round at his desire,
As if Boy had been the gold cock on the spire;
And the cock itself flew down from the church
And left the farmers all in the lurch.
Everything, everything, all and sum,
They run and they fly, they creep and they come;
The very trees they tugged at their roots,
Only their feet were too fast in their boots—
After him leaning and straining and bending,
As on through their boles the army kept wending,
Till out of the wood Boy burst on a lea,
Shouting and calling, "Come after me,"
And then they rose with a leafy hiss
And stood as if nothing had been amiss.
Little Boy Blue sat down on a stone,
And the creatures came round him every one.
He said to the clouds, "I want you there!"
And down they sank through the thin blue air.
He said to the sunset far in the west,
"Come here; I want you; 'tis my behest!"
And the sunset came and stood up on the wold,
And burned and glowed in purple and gold.
Then Little Boy Blue began to ponder:
"What's to be done with them all, I wonder!"
He thought a while, then he said, quite low,
"What to do with you all, I am sure I don't know!"
The clouds clodded down till dismal it grew;
Другие электронные книги автора George MacDonald
Последний отзыв
Удивительная книга. Как никогда актуальна сегодня. Язык и стиль автора настолько тонок, лёгок и изыскан, что легко поведёт читателя в мир героев, кото...
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