Читать книгу Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 56, Number 348 - Various - Страница 15

Huzzah, huzzah! His back is fairly

Turn’d about, the wizard old;

And I’ll now his spirits rarely

To my will and pleasure mould!

His spells and orgies—ha’n’t I

Mark’d them all aright?

And I’ll do wonders, sha’n’t I?

And deeds of mickle might.

Bubble, bubble;

Fast and faster!

Hear your master,

Hear his calling—

Water! flow in measures double,

To the bath in torrents falling!

Ho, thou batter’d broomstick! take ye

This old seedy coat, and wear it—

Ah, thou household drudge, I’ll make ye

Do my bidding; ay, and fear it.

Stand on legs, old tramper!

Here’s a head—I’ve stuck it—

Now be off—hey, scamper

With the water-bucket!

Bubble, bubble;

Fast and faster!

Hear your master,

Hear his calling—

Water! flow in measure double,

To the bath in torrents falling!

See, ’tis off—’tis at the river—

In the stream the bucket flashes;

Now ’tis back—and down, or ever

You can wink; the burden dashes.

Again, again, and quicker!

The floor is in a swim,

And every stoup and bicker

Is running o’er the brim.

Stop, now stop!

For you’ve granted

All I wanted

Well and neatly—

Gracious me! I’m like to drop—

I’ve forgot the word completely!

Oh, the word, so strong and baleful,

To make it what it was before!

There it skips with pail on pailful—

Would thou wert a broom once more!

Still new streams he scatters,

Round and ever round me—

Oh, a hundred waters

Rushing in have bound me!

No—no longer

Can I bear it.

No, I swear it!

Gifts and graces!

Woe is me, my fears grow stronger,

Look what grinnings, what grimaces!

Wilt thou, offspring of the devil,

Soak the house to please thy funning?

Even now, above the level

Of the door the water’s running.

Broom accurst, that will not

Hear, although I roar!

Stick! be now, and fail not,

What thou wert before!

You will joke me?

I’ll not bear it,

No, I swear it!

I will catch you;

And with axe, if you provoke me,

In a twinkling I’ll dispatch you.

Back it comes—will nought prevent it?

If I only turn me to thee,

Soon, O Kobold! thou’lt repent it,

When the steel goes crashing through thee.

Bravely struck, and surely!

There it goes in twain;

Now I move securely,

And I breathe again!

Woe and wonder!

As it parted,

Up there started,

’Quipp’d aright,

Goblins twain that rush asunder.

Help, oh help, ye powers of might!

Deep and deeper grows the water

On the stairs and in the hall,

Rushing in with roar and clatter—

Lord and master, hear me call!

Ah, here comes the master—

Sore, sir, is my straight;

I raised this spirit faster

Far than I can lay’t.

“To your hole!

As you were, be

Broom! and there be

Still; for none

But the wizard can control,

And make you on his errands run!”