Goblin Market by Christina Georgina Rossetti

Morning and evening / Maids heard the goblins cry: / "Come buy our orchard fruits, / Come buy, come buy: / Apples and quinces, / Lemons and oranges, / Plump unpecked cherries, / Melons and raspberries, / Bloom-down-cheeked 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."

Evening by evening / Among the brookside rushes, / Laura bowed her head to hear, / Lizzie veiled 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 glen. / "O," cried Lizzie, "Laura, Laura, / You should not peep at goblin men. " / Lizzie covered up her eyes, / Covered close lest they should look; / Laura reared her glossy head, / And whispered 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 whisked a tail, / One tramped at a rat's pace, / One crawled like a snail, / One like a wombat prowled obtuse and furry, / One like a ratel tumbled hurry-scurry. / She heard a voice like voice of doves / Cooing all together: / They sounded kind and full of loves / In the pleasant weather.