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A poem by Isabel Ecclestone Mackay

The Little Man In Green

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Title:     The Little Man In Green
Author: Isabel Ecclestone Mackay [More Titles by Mackay]

'TWAS a little man in green,
And he sat upon a stone;
And he sat there all alone,
Whispering.

"One and two," so whispered he.
('Twas an ancient man and hoar)
"One and two," and then no more--
Never, "Three".

Hawthorn trees were quick with May--
"Sir," said I, "Good-day to you"!
But he counted. "One and two"
In strange way.

Fool I was--oh, fool was I
(Who should know the ways of them!)
That I touched his cloak's green hem,
Passing by.

I was fey with spring and mirth--
Speaking him without a thought--
Now is joy a thing forgot
On the earth.

Ere the sweet thorn-buds were through,
Wife and child doom-stricken lay,
Cold as winter, white as spray--
"One and two!"

Now I seek eternally
That grim Counter of the fen,
Praying he may count again--
Counting, "Three".

* In the bad chance of a meeting with the "Little People" the
mortal is cautioned not to speak to them nor to touch, but to pass
by quickly with averted eye.--Old tale.


[The end]
Isabel Ecclestone Mackay's poem: Little Man In Green

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