Читать книгу Rhymes for the Young Folk - Allingham William - Страница 2

An Elf sat on a twig,

He was not very big,

He sang a little song,

He did not think it wrong;

But he was on a Wizard's ground,

Who hated all sweet sound.

Elf, Elf,

Take care of yourself!

He's coming behind you,

To seize you and bind you,

And stifle your song.

The Wizard! the Wizard!

He changes his shape

In crawling along,

An ugly old ape,

A poisonous lizard,

A spotted spider,

A wormy glider,

The Wizard! the Wizard!

He's up on the bough,

He'll bite through your gizzard

He's close to you now!

The Elf went on with his song,

It grew more clear and strong,

It lifted him into air,

He floated singing away,

With rainbows in his hair;

While the Wizard-worm from his creep

Made a sudden leap,

Fell down into a hole,

And, ere his magic word he could say,

Was eaten up by a Mole.