 | Rhymes and jingles by Mary Mapes Dodge |  |
19
ELFIN JACK the Giant Killer
Do not think the story
Of the giant-killer's glory
Is known and cherished only by yourselves,
O, my dears;
For his deeds so daring,
And his trick of scaring
All his foes, are quite familiar to the elves,
It appears.
Of the giant-killer's glory
Is known and cherished only by yourselves,
O, my dears;
For his deeds so daring,
And his trick of scaring
All his foes, are quite familiar to the elves,
It appears.
In the starlight tender—
In the moonlight's splendor
Do they gather and recount every deed,
It is said;
How he met a hornet,
Who was playing on a cornet,
Out of tune; and he slew him with a reed,—
Slew him dead!
In the moonlight's splendor
Do they gather and recount every deed,
It is said;
How he met a hornet,
Who was playing on a cornet,
Out of tune; and he slew him with a reed,—
Slew him dead!
How, growing ever bolder,
With his reed upon his shoulder,
And an acorn-shield upon his little arm,
Well equipped—
He sought a mighty giant,
Who was known as “Worm, the Pliant,”
And after giving battle, fierce and warm,
Left him whipped.
With his reed upon his shoulder,
And an acorn-shield upon his little arm,
Well equipped—
He sought a mighty giant,
Who was known as “Worm, the Pliant,”
And after giving battle, fierce and warm,
Left him whipped.
20
How he saw a spider
With her victim, dead beside her,
Told her, in a voice of fury, to begone
From his sight;
How he killed her when she'd risen
To her cruel, fatal prison,
And nobly freed her captives, so forlorn,—
Gallant knight!
With her victim, dead beside her,
Told her, in a voice of fury, to begone
From his sight;
How he killed her when she'd risen
To her cruel, fatal prison,
And nobly freed her captives, so forlorn,—
Gallant knight!
Ah, but the elves are proudest,
And ring his praises loudest,
When telling of a snail, grim and hoary,
In his mail.
With those fearful horns before him,
Jack gallantly upbore him,
And killed him with a thrust (to his glory)
In the tail!
And ring his praises loudest,
When telling of a snail, grim and hoary,
In his mail.
With those fearful horns before him,
Jack gallantly upbore him,
And killed him with a thrust (to his glory)
In the tail!
List in the starlight tender,—
List in the moonlight's splendor,—
For a whirring, like hurrahing, in the glen,
Far and near.
'Tis the elves who, looking back
To their giant-killer, Jack,
Tell his story to each other,—funny men!
With a cheer.
List in the moonlight's splendor,—
For a whirring, like hurrahing, in the glen,
Far and near.
'Tis the elves who, looking back
To their giant-killer, Jack,
Tell his story to each other,—funny men!
With a cheer.
| Rhymes and jingles by Mary Mapes Dodge | |