Its cloven hoofprint on the sand
Will lead you—where?
Into a phantasmagoric land—
Beware!
There all the bright streams run up-hill.
The birds on every tree are still.
But from stocks and stones, clear voices come
That should be dumb.
If you have taken along a net,
A noose, a prod,
You’ll be waiting in the forest yet ...
_Nid—nod!_
In a virgin’s lap the beast slept sound,
_They say_ ... but I—
I think (Is anyone around?)
_That’s just a lie_!
If you have taken a musketoon
To flinders ’twill flash ’neath the wizard moon.
So I should take browned batter-cake,
Hot-buttered inside, like foam to flake.
And I should take an easy heart
And a whimsical face,
And a tied-up lunch of sandwich and tart,
And spread a cloth in the open chase.
And then I should pretend to snore ...
And I’d hear a snort and I’d hear a roar,
The wind of a mane and a tail, and four
Wild hoofs prancing the forest-floor.
And I’d open my eyes on a flashing horn—
And see the Unicorn!
Paladins fierce and virgins sweet ...
_But he’s never had anything to eat!_
Knights have tramped in their iron-mong’ry ...
But nobody thought—that’s all!—_he’s hungry!_