Satin sails in a crimson dawn Over the silky silver sea; Purple veils of the dark withdrawn; Heavens of pearl and porphyry; Purple and white in the morning light Over the water the town we knew, In tiny state, like a willow-plate, Shone, and behind it the hills were blue. There, we remembered, the shadows pass All day long like dreams in the night; There, in the meadows of dim blue grass, Crimson daisies are ringed with white; There the roses flutter their petals, Over the meadows they take their flight, There the moth that sleepily settles Turns to a flower in the warm soft light. There when the sunset colours the streets Everyone buys at wonderful stalls Toys and chocolates, guns and sweets, Ivory pistols, and Persian shawls: Everyone’s pockets are crammed with gold; Nobody’s heart is worn with care, Nobody ever grows tired and old, And nobody calls you “Baby” there. There with a hat like a round white dish Upside down on each pig-tailed head, Jugglers offer you snakes and fish, Dreams and dragons and gingerbread; Beautiful books with marvellous pictures, Painted pirates and streaming gore, And everyone reads, without any strictures, Tales he remembers for evermore. There when the dim blue daylight lingers Listening, and the West grows holy, Singers crouch with their long white fingers Floating over the zithern slowly: Paper lamps with a peachy bloom Burn above on the dim blue bough, While the zitherns gild the gloom With curious music! I hear it now! Now: and at that mighty word Holding out his magic fan, Through the waving flowers appeared, Suddenly, the tall thin man: And we saw the crumpled dwarf Trying to hide behind the tree, But his knotted scarlet scarf Made him very plain to see. Like a soft and smoky cloud Passed the webby net away; While its owner squealing loud Down behind the pear-tree lay; For the tall thin man came near, And his words were dark and gruff, And he swung the dwarf in the air By his long and scraggy scruff. There he kickled whimpering. But our rescuer touched the box, Open with a sudden spring Clashed the four-and-twenty locks; Then he crammed the dwarf inside, And the locks all clattered tight: Four-and-twenty times he tried Whether they were fastened right. Ah, he led us on our road, Showed us Wonder-Wander town; Then he fled: behind him flowed Once again the rose-pink gown: Down the long deserted street, All the windows winked like eyes, And our little trotting feet Echoed to the starry skies. Low and long for evermore Where the Wonder-Wander sea Whispers to the wistful shore Purple songs of mystery, Down the shadowy quay we came— Though it hides behind the hill You will find it just the same And the seamen singing still. There we chose a ship of pearl, And her milky silken sail Seemed by magic to unfurl, Puffed before a fairy gale; Shimmering o’er the purple deep, Out across the silvery bar, Softly as the wings of sleep Sailed we towards the morning star. Over us the skies were dark, Yet we never needed light; Softly shone our tiny bark Gliding through the solemn night; Softly bright our moony gleam, Glimmered o’er the glistening waves, Like a cold sea-maiden’s dream Globed in twilit ocean caves. So all night our shallop passed Many a haunt of old desire, Blurs of savage blossom massed Red above a pirate-fire; Huts that gloomed and glanced among Fruitage dipping in the blue; Songs the sirens never sung, Shores Ulysses never knew. All our fairy rigging shone Richly as a rainbow seen Where the moonlight floats upon Gossamers of gold and green: All the tiny spars were bright; Beaten gold the bowsprit was; But our pilot was the night, And our chart a looking-glass.