< Page:Collected poems vol 2 de la mare.djvu
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FOUR QUEER TALES

Till morning found him come into a country
Where none his Bad Face knew.

Past Mountain, River, Forest, River, Mountain
That Thief's lean shanks sped on,
Till Evening found him knocking at a Dark House,
His breath now well-nigh gone.

There came a little maid and asked his business;
A Cobbler dwelt within;
And though she much misliked the Bag he carried,
She led the Bad Man in.

He bargained with the Cobbler for a lodging
And soft laid down his Sack
In the Dead of Night, with none to spy or listen
From off his weary back.

And he taught the little Chicks to call him Father,
And he sold his stolen Pelf,
And bought a Palace, Horses, Slaves, and Peacocks
To ease his wicked self.

And though the children never really loved him,
He was rich past all belief;
While Robin and his Dame o'er Delf and Pewter

Spent all their days in Grief.

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