Morning and evening / Maids heard the goblins cry:"

Come buy our orchard fruits, / Come buy, come buy:

Apples and quinces, / Lemons and oranges,

Plump unpeck'd cherries, / Melons and raspberries,

Bloom-down-cheek'd peaches, / Swart-headed mulberries,

Wild free-born cranberries, / Crab-apples, dewberries,

Pine-apples, blackberries, / Apricots, strawberries;--

All ripe together / In summer weather,-

Morns that pass by, / Fair eves that fly;

Come buy, come buy: / Our grapes fresh from the vine,

Pomegranates full and fine, / Dates and sharp bullaces,

Rare pears and greengages, / Damsons and bilberries,

Taste them and try: / Currants and gooseberries,

Bright-fire-like barberries, / Figs to fill your mouth,

Citrons from the South, / Sweet to tongue and sound to eye;

Come buy, come buy."

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Evening by evening / Among the brookside rushes,
Laura bow'd her head to hear, / Lizzie veil'd her blushes:
Crouching close together / In the cooling weather,
With clasping arms and cautioning lips, / With tingling cheeks and finger tips.
"Lie close," Laura said, / Pricking up her golden head:
"We must not look at goblin men, / We must not buy their fruits:
Who knows upon what soil they fed / Their hungry thirsty roots?"
"Come buy," call the goblins / Hobbling down the glenn

"Oh," cried Lizzie, "Laura, Laura, / You should not peep at goblin men."

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Lizzie cover'd up her eyes, / Cover'd close lest they should look;
Laura rear'd her glossy head, / And whisper'd like the restless brook:
"Look, Lizzie, look, Lizzie, / Down the glen tramp little men.
One hauls a basket, / One bears a plate,
One lugs a golden dish / Of many pounds weight.
How fair the vine must grow / Whose grapes are so luscious;
How warm the wind must blow / Through those fruit bushes."
"No," said Lizzie, "No, no, no; / Their offers should not charm us,
Their evil gifts would harm us." / She thrust a dimpled finger
In each ear, shut eyes and ran: / Curious Laura chose to linger
Wondering at each merchant man. / One had a cat's face,
One whisk'd a tail, / One tramp'd at a rat's pace,
One crawl'd like a snail, / One like a wombat prowl'd obtuse and furry,
One like a ratel tumbled hurry skurry. / She heard a voice like voice of doves
Cooing all together: / They sounded kind and full of loves
In the pleasant weather.

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Laura stretch'd her gleaming neck / Like a rush-imbedded swan,
Like a lily from the beck, / Like a moonlit poplar branch,
Like a vessel at the launch / When its last restraint is gone.
Backwards up the mossy glen / Turn'd and troop'd the goblin men,
With their shrill repeated cry, / "Come buy, come buy."
When they reach'd where Laura was / They stood stock still upon the moss,
Leering at each other, / Brother with queer brother;
Signalling each other, / Brother with sly brother.
One set his basket down, / One rear'd his plate;
One began to weave a crown / Of tendrils, leaves, and rough nuts brown
(Men sell not such in any town); / One heav'd the golden weight
Of dish and fruit to offer her: / "Come buy, come buy," was still their cry.
Laura stared but did not stir,  / Long'd but had no money:
The whisk-tail'd merchant bade her taste / In tones as smooth as honey,
The cat-faced purr'd, / The rat-faced spoke a word
Of welcome, and the snail-paced even was heard; / One parrot-voiced and jolly
Cried "Pretty Goblin" still for "Pretty Polly;"-- / One whistled like a bird.

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