Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE ELFMAN, by GRACE RUTHENBURG


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE ELFMAN, by                    
First Line: Who is it creeping, creeping
Last Line: The night the elfman prayed could hear the holy water singing.
Subject(s): Fairies; Elves


Who is it creeping, creeping
That hasn't come to stay?
It is an elf comes leaping
This early Whitsunday.

He comes by hedge; he comes by road; he goes not near the belfry.
He has three whiskers for a load, and he is dark with elfry.

He patters by the empty doors of good folk gone to service;
He crawls by cradles, all on fours and makes the sheep dog nervous.
And now he's passed the churchyard wall; he's peeking in the windows.
He does not cross himself at all; his breath blows black as sin does.

The holy water boils in fount; the candles glint and gutter.
The fat priest pausing all astount begins to moan and mutter.

The elfman sits him down in pew and folds his crooked fingers.
Around his coat-tails, damp with dew, a smell of hawthorn lingers.

The elfman he begins to pray with prayer-book from his pocket;
The people round him melt away like tapers from their socket.
They cross their fingers fore and aft with looks and squeaks and whispers;
They gaze about as they were daft, or naked come to vespers.

The elfman kneels upon the floor; he sings the hymns and paters
Till matrons watching through the door forget their bows and gaiters.

The sacristan blows through his nose; the viscount fumes and sputters;
The vestry, gazing at their toes, ignore the words he utters.

The priest makes crosses seven times in half as many minutes;
The women's bonnets nod like limes beset by flocks of linnets.

The elfman prayed, the elfman rose; he walked straight out the entry.
The viscount squinted down his nose; the beadle watched the gentry.
The elfman vanished through the trees -- he never came thereafter;
The crowd limped off on shaking knees with melancholy laughter.

And just the plaster saints by night, with dark on darkness piling,
Could see the Virgin's face turn bright as if her soul was smiling.

And just the Blessed Virgin's ear, that heeds the harebell's ringing,
The night the elfman prayed could hear the holy water singing.





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