 | The Complete Poetical Works of Robert Buchanan |  |
THE LEAD-MELTING.
'Twas clear, cold, starry, silver night,
And the Old Year was a-dying;
Three pretty girls with melted lead
Sat gaily fortune-trying.
They dropt the lead in water clear,
With blushing palpitations
And, as it hissed, with fearful heart;
They sought its revelations.
And the Old Year was a-dying;
Three pretty girls with melted lead
Sat gaily fortune-trying.
They dropt the lead in water clear,
With blushing palpitations
And, as it hissed, with fearful heart;
They sought its revelations.
In the deep night, while all around
The snow is whitely falling,
Each pretty girl looks down to find
Her future husband's calling.
The eldest sees a Castle bright,
Girt round by shrubland shady;
And, blushing bright, she feels in thought
A lady rich already.
The snow is whitely falling,
Each pretty girl looks down to find
Her future husband's calling.
The eldest sees a Castle bright,
Girt round by shrubland shady;
And, blushing bright, she feels in thought
A lady rich already.
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The second sees a silver Ship,
And bright and glad her face is;
Oh, she will have a skipper bold,
Grown rich in foreign places!
The younger sees a glittering Crown,
And starts in consternation;
For Molly is too meek to dream
Of reaching regal station!
And bright and glad her face is;
Oh, she will have a skipper bold,
Grown rich in foreign places!
The younger sees a glittering Crown,
And starts in consternation;
For Molly is too meek to dream
Of reaching regal station!
And time went by: one maiden got
Her landsman, one her sailor—
The Lackey of a country count,
The Skipper of a whaler!
And Molly has her Crown, although
She unto few can show it—
Her crown is true-love fancy-wrought,
Her husband, a poor Poet!
Her landsman, one her sailor—
The Lackey of a country count,
The Skipper of a whaler!
And Molly has her Crown, although
She unto few can show it—
Her crown is true-love fancy-wrought,
Her husband, a poor Poet!
| The Complete Poetical Works of Robert Buchanan | |