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Fleurs De Lys, and Other Poems by Arthur Weir
page 84 of 103 (81%)
Skilled in magic, huge of limb;
Giant, wizard, goblin, sprite,
Ghost, witch, devil, imp of night,
All had fled from him.

Then he questioned: "Can there be
Further labors to be done?
Breathes there one to equal me,
Who before me will not flee?"
Quoth a squaw: "Yes, one."

"Name him," angry Glooskap cried,
"Baby," said she, "And be warned--
If you meddle, woe betide
All your glory, all your pride!
For you will be scorned,"

Baby sat upon the ground,
Harming none, and sucked his thumb,
Gazing with a look profound
Upon Glooskap and around,
Solon-wise, Sphinx-dumb.

Glooskap never married was,
So he thought, like all his kind,
That he knew the nursery laws
Wholly, and with ease could cause
Service prompt and blind.

Sweetly, the magician smiled,
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