Page:Poems Rossetti.djvu/54

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28
THE PRINCE'S PROGRESS.
The veriest atomy he looked,
With grimy ringers clutching and crooked,
Tight skin, a nose all bony and hooked,
And a shaking, sharp, suspicious way;
Blinking, his eyes had scarcely brooked
  The light of day.

Stared the Prince, for the sight was new;
Stared, but asked without more ado:
"May a weary traveller lodge with you,
Old father, here in your lair?
In your country the inns seem few,
  And scanty the fare."

The head turned not to hear him speak;
The old voice whistled as through a leak
(Out it came in a quavering squeak):
"Work for wage is a bargain fit:
If there's aught of mine that you seek
  You must work for it.

"Buried alive from light and air
This year is the hundredth year,
I feed my fire with a sleepless care,
Watching my potion wane or wax.
Elixir of Life is simmering there,
  And but one thing lacks."

If you're fain to lodge here with me,
Take that pair of bellows you see—
Too heavy for my old hands they be—