Part 3

The dogs were eager, they set them free; They flew over snow and the frozen sea; And the breath of the dogs and the King and Queen Like little plumes in the cold so keen Turned to frosty flakes that twinkled bright. The rosy glow from the northern light Grew pale and wan in the snapping cold; But the dogs raced on for the King was bold. On the cold white earth, ’neath the cold, cold sky From the frozen sea to the glaciers high, There wasn’t a living, breathing thing Save the racing dogs and the Queen and King.

The cooling Queen, in esquimau, Said, “Dear, how far are we to go?” The King’s teeth chattered but he managed to say, “I have vowed on this our wedding day To show my bride how the world turns ’round, And so, my dearest, we are bound For the cold north pole--” I regret to say That she broke in here in a certain way That isn’t confined, as some folks know, To the land of ice and the Esquimaux. “Of course,” said she, “I’d love to go To the ends of the earth with you, but O, I would never dare to go in sight Of the old north pole on such a night.” Now the King was young and the King was bold, And also newly married, behold! He cracked his whip; with right good will The dogs flew northward faster still. But though this was his wedding day, The King expected the Queen to say A word or two of protest--no, Not a word was heard from her although Against her will she was hurried away; So he turned--imagine his deep dismay, She was white and still and frozen, alack! The King saw why she didn’t talk back. Now whatever the King was, he wasn’t slow; He yelled the esquimau word for “whoa.” They stopped and turned and the cracking whip Urged the dogs due south at a good round clip. Said the King, “O, Zephyrus, come and blow,” (He was talking still in esquimau) “Blow north; I know that you like best To fan warm lands from the warm, far west, But just for once do come and blow And melt Jack Frost, my family foe; And thaw my Queen, it’s surely plain That a frozen Queen can’t help me to reign!”

And Zephyrus heard and softly blew, And Jack Frost heard the sound and knew The time had come for him to flee; And he fled far north to the frozen sea. The stars grew soft and the floating frost Was turned to mist, and the Queen had lost Her death-like pallor; a pink flush rose To her cheeks and--alas--to her little flat nose. Her eyelids fluttered and opened and then She began the unfinished discussion again. She looked at the King and said, “I’m bound That I never shall see how the world turns round.” And she didn’t. The King from that day forth When he took her to drive never dared to turn north. Alas, when they came to their palace of ice, They found it a puddle that didn’t look nice; For well-meaning Zephyrus just didn’t know That enough is enough when they ask you to blow. So the King and Queen spent more than a year In a rented tent, while an engineer And an architect, at a very high price, Built a brand-new palace of brand-new ice. And there they lived and, as you’ll foresee, Were just as happy as happy could be.

But Zephyrus, as his wife fortold, Came home with a very serious cold; And though he improved, yet even today, When he blows through a pine tree on his way, He wheezes asthmatically all the way through. Just listen some time and you’ll find this true.

THE NORTH WIND

Long years ago and far away, One very sunny, summer day, In tropic lands, one special spot Was very, very, very hot.

A King lay in the sweltering shade, While crowds of dusky slaves arrayed In almost nothing, tried to keep His Highness cool enough to sleep.

Though fans were waved to stir the air, Though fountains tinkled everywhere, Though every noisy sound was stilled, Though sweet and cooling odors filled The air, though lulled was every sense, The King was far from somnolence.

“Descend,” said he, “O, drowsy god; Vouchsafe at least to let me nod.” His prayer was vain, the god ’twas clear, Was out or did not care to hear.

In desperation then the King Called up a slave and bade him bring Young Boreas, a big, fat fool, And said, “Why don’t you make it cool?”

Now Boreas knew of just one way To cool things off, for every day With mighty power of cheek and lung He blew his soup to save his tongue. And so responding to the King He ’gan to blow like anything.

The sunshine paled, an icy chill Came over all, and plain and hill Were frosted white; in sound repose The King slept; what is more he froze.

Still Boreas blew and blew until There was no sound except the shrill Sound of his blowing; all in sight Was silenced by the frosty blight.

He stopped, lo, all the land was dead; In terror at his deed he fled, Nor stopped for flood nor stick nor stone Until he reached the arctic zone. And there he dwells; alas, we know That he remembers how to blow.

HOW IT HAPPENED

Amidst fair gardens long ago Beneath a changing sky, There stood a castle, while below A stream flowed slowly by.

A goodly man of high degree Lived with his lady there; And time and fate had brought them three Fair sons with joy and care.

These boys played by the river’s rim; Alas one autumn day It chanced while none was watching him The youngest son at play

Fell in a deep and muddy pool; The yells that did resound Would make it clear to any fool That someone might be drowned.

The father grabbed a handy hook And ran his best; before He reached the pool, the colored cook Had brought the boy to shore.

The father held him downside up, And rolled him round and round; He yelled--joy filled the father’s cup-- He couldn’t yell if drowned.

A joyful spanking, then a bath, Dry clothes; when he came through, Though deeply stirred to rosy wrath, He seemed as good as new.

The father pondered long--then sent A note to Zeus which said; “In general the government Has had an honest head.

But ’gainst one thing I now protest; The waters everywhere In north and south and east and west Are left completely bare.”

Great Zeus had been in politics For years and years and years; His term approached its close, and kicks Like this aroused his fears

That reelection now might fail. He told Jack Frost to plan Whatever measure might avail To satisfy the man.

And so Jack Frost invented ice, And spread it clear and thin Upon the waters; this device Kept folks from falling in.

Alas, he did not dare to go Far in the temperate zone; The warm South Wind, his bitter foe, Might catch him there alone.

And now when Spring comes back in May, With robins in her train, Jack Frost, the coward, flees away And waits for Winter’s reign.

The ice without his constant care, Grown thin and weak and brown, Runs off and leaves the water bare, And anyone may drown.

THE FIRST MIST

Once Hermes paused in arrowy flight And while he hovered to alight, Beheld a winsome mortal maid; With other maids she danced and played; They all were fair; he thought this one The fairest thing beneath the sun.

Then Hermes, like a golden gleam, Darted and dropped beside a stream; He called up from the water clear A naiad; in her dripping ear He whispered long and low, while she Nodded and chuckled pleasantly. She waved her hand; he flew away; A mist formed ’round the maids at play. Then flying Hermes did invade The thickening mist and kissed the maid, And flew reluctantly away With sighs and smiles; (for many a day Olympian letters went astray.)

The other maidens midst the mist, Where they stood silently unkissed, Saw nothing though they heard a sound Like rose leaves falling on the ground. The mist grew thin that had concealed The startled maid; she stood revealed With conscious blush and just below A budding branch of mistletoe.

And so the whole world came to know Of mist and maids and mistletoe.

Transcriber’s Note:

Obvious errors in spelling and punctuation have been corrected in this version, but minor inconsistencies and archaic forms have been retained as printed.

Footnotes have been renumbered and moved to the end of their respective poems in this version.

Two instances of a doubled word has been changed to single:

In _The Boy and the Basilisk_: the the _to_ the

In _Why the Sea is Salt_: every every _to_ every