The Elf

Helen Hoyt

Nobody knew of you
 Till they heard you knock-
Heard your tiny whisper
  Breathing at the lock.

Your bright elf-eyes
  Peeped through the crack:
We could not leave you standing,
  We could not turn you back!
Only a brief parley-
 You waiting on the sill-
We flung the door wide open,
  We let you have your will!
Confidently, quietly-
 Like a king in disguise-
Looking very lordly,
  Looking very wise-
You crossed the threshold
  As if it were your own;
You sat yourself down
  As if on a throne;
And we bowed before you,
  Brought you all we had;
Laid it at your feet
  Willingly and glad... .
Our bins are empty
  That once were full;
The grain is gone,
  The linen and the wool.
The spinning we slack,
  The loom we leave;
The pattern, half woven,
  We shall not weave.
But what do we mind,
 Who have purple to wear
Fashioned from fire,
 Shaped from the air?

We have coffers and chests
 Of hopes without measure:
Bundles of dreams,
 Storerooms of pleasure;
Gold heaped up
 And jewels dug deep,
That dragons guard
 And trolls safe-keep.
We feed upon foam,
 Upon lightsome wishes,
From silver and crystal
 Of fairy dishes;

From fairy flagons
 Of ancient mirth.
Marsh fires, witch fires
 Dance on our hearth.
There is flicker of wings
 And flicker of flame,
Musical voices
 Calling our name. . ..
You have put a charm
 On every room-

On bed and bench,
 On shovel and broom-
The grass is greener,
 The sun more bright,
And a star hangs over
 The roof all night!
We have forgotten
 What we used to know;
We must stay where you stay,
 Go where you go.
Our olden lives
 We shall live no more-
We have let magic
 In through the door!