Eugene Lee-Hamilton (1845–1907)

THE ROBIN gave three hops, and chirp’d, and said:

‘Yes, I knew Puck, and loved him; though I trow

He mimick’d oft my whistle, chuckling low;

Yes, I knew cousin Puck; but he is dead.

We found him lying on his mushroom bed—

The Wren and I—half cover’d up with snow,

As we were hopping where the berries grow.

We think he died of cold. Ay, Puck is fled.’

And then the Wood-Mouse said: ‘We made the Mole

Dig him a little grave beneath the moss,

And four big Dormice placed him in the hole.

The Squirrel made with sticks a little cross;

Puck was a Christian elf, and had a soul;

And all we velvet jackets mourn his loss.’