O IT was Puck! I saw him yesternight Swung up betwixt a phlox-top and the rim Of a low crescent moon that cradled him, Whirring his rakish wings with all his might, And pursing his wee mouth, that dimpled white And red, as though some dagger keen and slim Had stung him there, while ever faint and dim His eery warblings piped his high delight: Till I, grown jubilant, shrill answer made, At which all suddenly he dropped from view; And peering after, 'neath the everglade, What was it, do you think, I saw him do? I saw him peeling dewdrops with a blade Of starshine sharpened on his batwing shoe. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OLD FOLKS AT HOME by STEPHEN COLLINS FOSTER ACROSS THE PAMPAS by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT SATAN ABSOLVED; A VICTORIAN MYSTERY by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THE BOUT by EVARISTE BOULAY-PATY INVITING by DANIEL CHAUNCEY BREWER THE REED by AUDREY ALEXANDRA BROWN |