Mazurka

God Pluto is a kindly man;

the children ran:

"Come help us with the games

our dames ban."

He drinks his beer

and builds his forge,

as red as George

The Fourth his face is that flames tan.

Like baskets of ripe fruit

the bird-songs' oaten flutes

All honeyed yellow sound in air, where

Among the hairy leaves fall trills of

dew and sheaves

Are tasting of fresh green anew. Flare

His flames as tall

As Windsor Castle, all

Balmoral was not higher;

Like feathered masks and peas

in pots and castled trees

Walled gardens of the seas,

the flames seemed all of these.

As red and green as

Petticoats of queens

Among the flowering

Beans they

Bloom... "Come rest and be!

I care for nobody, nobody, not I,

the world can be -

and no one cares for me!"

In the lane, Hattie

Meddlesome Mattie,

Suddenly quarrel.

Flames like Balmoral

From feathered doxies

Blow up like boxes,

Cram full of matches, -

Each yells and scratches.

Flames green and yellow spirt from

lips and eyes and skirt,

The leaves like chestnut

horses' ears rear.

Ladies, though my forge has made

me red as George

The Fourth, Such flames we know

not here, dear!