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 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.' 
 
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 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. 
'Oh,' 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 skurry. 
Lizzie heard a voice like voice of doves 
Cooing all together: 
They sounded kind and full of loves 
In the pleasant weather.
 
 
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