English 1027F Huron University College

Fall Term 2013

Goblin Market “Lie close,” Laura said,

Pricking up her golden head:
40

by Christina Rossetti (1859; pub. 1862)

“We must not look at goblin men,
Morning and evening We must not buy their fruits:
Maids heard the goblins cry: Who knows upon what soil they fed
“Come buy our orchard fruits, Their hungry thirsty roots?” 45

Come buy, come buy: “Come buy,” call the goblins

Apples and quinces, 5 Hobbling down the glen.
Lemons and oranges,
Plump unpeck’d cherries, “Oh,” cried Lizzie, “Laura, Laura,
Melons and raspberries, You should not peep at goblin men.”
Bloom-down-cheek’d peaches, Lizzie cover’d up her eyes, 50

Swart-headed mulberries, 10 Cover’d close lest they should look;

Wild free-born cranberries, Laura rear’d her glossy head,
Crab-apples, dewberries, And whisper’d like the restless brook:
Pine-apples, blackberries, “Look, Lizzie, look, Lizzie,
Apricots, strawberries;— Down the glen tramp little men. 55

All ripe together 15 One hauls a basket,

In summer weather,— One bears a plate,
Morns that pass by, One lugs a golden dish
Fair eves that fly; Of many pounds weight.
Come buy, come buy: How fair the vine must grow 60

Our grapes fresh from the vine, 20 Whose grapes are so luscious;
Pomegranates full and fine, How warm the wind must blow
Dates and sharp bullaces, Through those fruit bushes.”
Rare pears and greengages, “No,” said Lizzie, “No, no, no;
Damsons and bilberries, Their offers should not charm us, 65

Taste them and try: 25 Their evil gifts would harm us.”
Currants and gooseberries, She thrust a dimpled finger
Bright-fire-like barberries, In each ear, shut eyes and ran:
Figs to fill your mouth, Curious Laura chose to linger
Citrons from the South, Wondering at each merchant man. 70

Sweet to tongue and sound to eye; 30 One had a cat’s face,

Come buy, come buy.” One whisk’d a tail,
One tramp’d at a rat’s pace,
Evening by evening One crawl’d like a snail,
Among the brookside rushes, One like a wombat prowl’d obtuse and furry, 75

Laura bow’d her head to hear, One like a ratel1 tumbled hurry skurry.
Lizzie veil’d her blushes: 35 She heard a voice like voice of doves
Crouching close together Cooing all together:
In the cooling weather,
With clasping arms and cautioning lips,
With tingling cheeks and finger tips. 1 ratel badger; usu. specifically a honey badger.

This edition ©2013 Luke R. J. Maynard

 English 1027F Huron University College
Fall Term 2013

They sounded kind and full of loves And all my gold is on the furze1 120
In the pleasant weather. 80 That shakes in windy weather
Above the rusty heather.”
Laura stretch’d her gleaming neck “You have much gold upon your head,”
Like a rush-imbedded swan, They answer’d all together:
Like a lily from the beck, “Buy from us with a golden curl.” 125
Like a moonlit poplar branch, She clipp’d a precious golden lock,
Like a vessel at the launch 85 She dropp’d a tear more rare than pearl,
When its last restraint is gone. Then suck’d their fruit globes fair or red:
Sweeter than honey from the rock,
Backwards up the mossy glen Stronger than man-rejoicing wine, 130
Turn’d and troop’d the goblin men, Clearer than water flow’d that juice;
With their shrill repeated cry, She never tasted such before,
“Come buy, come buy.” 90 How should it cloy with length of use?
When they reach’d where Laura was She suck’d and suck’d and suck’d the more
They stood stock still upon the moss, Fruits which that unknown orchard bore; 135
Leering at each other, She suck’d until her lips were sore;
Brother with queer brother; Then flung the emptied rinds away
Signalling each other, 95 But gather’d up one kernel stone,2
Brother with sly brother. And knew not was it night or day
One set his basket down, As she turn’d home alone. 140
One rear’d his plate;
One began to weave a crown Lizzie met her at the gate
Of tendrils, leaves, and rough nuts brown 100 Full of wise upbraidings:
(Men sell not such in any town); “Dear, you should not stay so late,
One heav’d the golden weight Twilight is not good for maidens;
Of dish and fruit to offer her: Should not loiter in the glen 145
“Come buy, come buy,” was still their cry. In the haunts of goblin men.
Laura stared but did not stir, 105 Do you not remember Jeanie,
Long’d but had no money: How she met them in the moonlight,
The whisk-tail’d merchant bade her taste Took their gifts both choice and many,
In tones as smooth as honey, Ate their fruits and wore their flowers 150
The cat-faced purr’d, Pluck’d from bowers
The rat-faced spoke a word 110 Where summer ripens at all hours?
Of welcome, and the snail-paced even was heard; But ever in the noonlight
One parrot-voiced and jolly She pined and pined away;
Cried “Pretty Goblin” still for “Pretty Polly;”— Sought them by night and day, 155
One whistled like a bird. Found them no more but dwindled and grew grey;
Then fell with the first snow,
But sweet-tooth Laura spoke in haste: 115 While to this day no grass will grow
“Good folk, I have no coin; Where she lies low:
To take were to purloin: I planted daisies there a year ago 160
I have no copper in my purse,
I have no silver either,
1 furze a spiny shrub known for its yellow flowers.
2 kernel stone i.e. a seed.

This edition ©2013 Luke R. J. Maynard

 English 1027F Huron University College
Fall Term 2013
Neat like bees, as sweet and busy,
That never blow. Laura rose with Lizzie:
You should not loiter so.” Fetch’d in honey, milk’d the cows,
“Nay, hush,” said Laura: Air’d and set to rights the house,
“Nay, hush, my sister: Kneaded cakes of whitest wheat, 205
I ate and ate my fill, 165 Cakes for dainty mouths to eat,
Yet my mouth waters still; Next churn’d butter, whipp’d up cream,
To-morrow night I will Fed their poultry, sat and sew’d;
Buy more;” and kiss’d her: Talk’d as modest maidens should:
“Have done with sorrow; Lizzie with an open heart, 210
I’ll bring you plums to-morrow 170 Laura in an absent dream,
Fresh on their mother twigs, One content, one sick in part;
Cherries worth getting; One warbling for the mere bright day’s delight,
You cannot think what figs One longing for the night.
My teeth have met in,
What melons icy-cold 175 At length slow evening came: 215
Piled on a dish of gold They went with pitchers to the reedy brook;
Too huge for me to hold, Lizzie most placid in her look,
What peaches with a velvet nap, Laura most like a leaping flame.
Pellucid1 grapes without one seed: They drew the gurgling water from its deep;
Odorous indeed must be the mead2 180 Lizzie pluck’d purple and rich golden flags, 220
Whereon they grow, and pure the wave they drink Then turning homeward said: “The sunset flushes
With lilies at the brink, Those furthest loftiest crags;
And sugar-sweet their sap.” Come, Laura, not another maiden lags.
No wilful squirrel wags,
Golden head by golden head, The beasts and birds are fast asleep.” 225
Like two pigeons in one nest 185 But Laura loiter’d still among the rushes
Folded in each other’s wings, And said the bank was steep.
They lay down in their curtain’d bed:
Like two blossoms on one stem, And said the hour was early still
Like two flakes of new-fall’n snow, The dew not fall’n, the wind not chill;
Like two wands of ivory 190 Listening ever, but not catching 230
Tipp’d with gold for awful3 kings. The customary cry,
Moon and stars gaz’d in at them, “Come buy, come buy,”
Wind sang to them lullaby, With its iterated jingle
Lumbering owls forbore to fly, Of sugar-baited words:
Not a bat flapp’d to and fro 195 Not for all her watching 235
Round their rest: Once discerning even one goblin
Cheek to cheek and breast to breast Racing, whisking, tumbling, hobbling;
Lock’d together in one nest. Let alone the herds
That used to tramp along the glen,
Early in the morning In groups or single, 240
When the first cock crow’d his warning, 200 Of brisk fruit-merchant men.

1 pellucid translucent; admitting light.

2 mead in this context, “meadow.”
3 awful in this context, “awe-inspiring.”

This edition ©2013 Luke R. J. Maynard

 English 1027F Huron University College
Fall Term 2013

Till Lizzie urged, “O Laura, come; She set it by a wall that faced the south;
I hear the fruit-call but I dare not look: Dew’d it with tears, hoped for a root,
You should not loiter longer at this brook: Watch’d for a waxing shoot,
Come with me home. 245 But there came none; 285
The stars rise, the moon bends her arc, It never saw the sun,
Each glowworm winks her spark, It never felt the trickling moisture run:
Let us get home before the night grows dark: While with sunk eyes and faded mouth
For clouds may gather She dream’d of melons, as a traveller sees
Though this is summer weather, 250 False waves in desert drouth2 290
Put out the lights and drench us through; With shade of leaf-crown’d trees,
Then if we lost our way what should we do?” And burns the thirstier in the sandful breeze.

Laura turn’d cold as stone She no more swept the house,

To find her sister heard that cry alone, Tended the fowls or cows,
That goblin cry, 255 Fetch’d honey, kneaded cakes of wheat, 295
“Come buy our fruits, come buy.” Brought water from the brook:
Must she then buy no more such dainty fruit? But sat down listless in the chimney-nook
Must she no more such succous1 pasture find, And would not eat.
Gone deaf and blind?
Her tree of life droop’d from the root: 260 Tender Lizzie could not bear
She said not one word in her heart’s sore ache; To watch her sister’s cankerous care 300
But peering thro’ the dimness, nought discerning, Yet not to share.
Trudg’d home, her pitcher dripping all the way; She night and morning
So crept to bed, and lay Caught the goblins’ cry:
Silent till Lizzie slept; 265 “Come buy our orchard fruits,
Then sat up in a passionate yearning, Come buy, come buy;”— 305
And gnash’d her teeth for baulk’d desire and wept Beside the brook, along the glen,
As if her heart would break. She heard the tramp of goblin men,
The yoke and stir
Day after day, night after night, Poor Laura could not hear;
Laura kept watch in vain 270 Long’d to buy fruit to comfort her, 310
In sullen silence of exceeding pain. But fear’d to pay too dear.
She never caught again the goblin cry: She thought of Jeanie in her grave,
“Come buy, come buy;”— Who should have been a bride;
She never spied the goblin men But who for joys brides hope to have
Hawking their fruits along the glen: 275 Fell sick and died 315
But when the noon wax’d bright In her gay prime,
Her hair grew thin and grey; In earliest winter time
She dwindled, as the fair full moon doth turn With the first glazing rime,
To swift decay and burn With the first snow-fall of crisp winter time.
Her fire away. 280
Till Laura dwindling 320
One day remembering her kernel-stone Seem’d knocking at Death’s door:

1 succous juicy. 2 drouth drought.

This edition ©2013 Luke R. J. Maynard

 English 1027F Huron University College
Fall Term 2013

Then Lizzie weigh’d no more Mindful of Jeanie:

Better and worse; “Give me much and many: — 365
But put a silver penny in her purse, Held out her apron,
Kiss’d Laura, cross’d the heath with clumps of Toss’d them her penny.
furze 325 “Nay, take a seat with us,
At twilight, halted by the brook: Honour and eat with us,”
And for the first time in her life They answer’d grinning: 370
Began to listen and look. “Our feast is but beginning.
Night yet is early,
Laugh’d every goblin Warm and dew-pearly,
When they spied her peeping: 330 Wakeful and starry:
Came towards her hobbling, Such fruits as these 375
Flying, running, leaping, No man can carry:
Puffing and blowing, Half their bloom would fly,
Chuckling, clapping, crowing, Half their dew would dry,
Clucking and gobbling, 335 Half their flavour would pass by.
Mopping and mowing, Sit down and feast with us, 380
Full of airs and graces, Be welcome guest with us,
Pulling wry faces, Cheer you and rest with us.”—
Demure grimaces, “Thank you,” said Lizzie: “But one waits
Cat-like and rat-like, 340 At home alone for me:
Ratel- and wombat-like, So without further parleying, 385
Snail-paced in a hurry, If you will not sell me any
Parrot-voiced and whistler, Of your fruits though much and many,
Helter skelter, hurry skurry, Give me back my silver penny
Chattering like magpies, 345 I toss’d you for a fee.”—
Fluttering like pigeons, They began to scratch their pates, 390
Gliding like fishes,— No longer wagging, purring,
Hugg’d her and kiss’d her: But visibly demurring,
Squeez’d and caress’d her: Grunting and snarling.
Stretch’d up their dishes, 350 One call’d her proud,
Panniers, and plates: Cross-grain’d, uncivil; 395
“Look at our apples Their tones wax’d loud,
Russet and dun, Their look were evil.
Bob at our cherries, Lashing their tails
Bite at our peaches, 355 They trod and hustled her,
Citrons and dates, Elbow’d and jostled her, 400
Grapes for the asking, Claw’d with their nails,
Pears red with basking Barking, mewing, hissing, mocking,
Out in the sun, Tore her gown and soil’d her stocking,
Plums on their twigs; 360 Twitch’d her hair out by the roots,
Pluck them and suck them, Stamp’d upon her tender feet, 405
Pomegranates, figs.”— Held her hands and squeez’d their fruits
Against her mouth to make her eat.
“Good folk,” said Lizzie,

This edition ©2013 Luke R. J. Maynard

 English 1027F Huron University College
Fall Term 2013

White and golden Lizzie stood, Knew not was it night or day;
Like a lily in a flood,— Sprang up the bank, tore thro’ the furze, 450
Like a rock of blue-vein’d stone 410 Threaded copse and dingle,
Lash’d by tides obstreperously,—1 And heard her penny jingle
Like a beacon left alone Bouncing in her purse,—
In a hoary2 roaring sea, Its bounce was music to her ear.
Sending up a golden fire,— She ran and ran 455
Like a fruit-crown’d orange-tree 415 As if she fear’d some goblin man
White with blossoms honey-sweet Dogg’d her with gibe or curse
Sore beset by wasp and bee,— Or something worse:
Like a royal virgin town But not one goblin scurried after,
Topp’d with gilded dome and spire Nor was she prick’d by fear; 460
Close beleaguer’d by a fleet 420 The kind heart made her windy-paced
Mad to tug her standard down. That urged her home quite out of breath
with haste
One may lead a horse to water, And inward laughter.
Twenty cannot make him drink.
Though the goblins cuff’d and caught her, She cried, “Laura,” up the garden,
Coax’d and fought her, 425 “Did you miss me? 465
Bullied and besought her, Come and kiss me.
Scratch’d her, pinch’d her black as ink, Never mind my bruises,
Kick’d and knock’d her, Hug me, kiss me, suck my juices
Maul’d and mock’d her, Squeez’d from goblin fruits for you,
Lizzie utter’d not a word; 430 Goblin pulp and goblin dew. 470
Would not open lip from lip Eat me, drink me, love me;
Lest they should cram a mouthful in: Laura, make much of me;
But laugh’d in heart to feel the drip For your sake I have braved the glen
Of juice that syrupp’d all her face, And had to do with goblin merchant men.”
And lodg’d in dimples of her chin, 435
And streak’d her neck which quaked like curd. Laura started from her chair, 475
At last the evil people, Flung her arms up in the air,
Worn out by her resistance, Clutch’d her hair:
Flung back her penny, kick’d their fruit “Lizzie, Lizzie, have you tasted
Along whichever road they took, 440 For my sake the fruit forbidden?
Not leaving root or stone or shoot; Must your light like mine be hidden, 480
Some writh’d into the ground, Your young life like mine be wasted,
Some div’d into the brook Undone in mine undoing,
With ring and ripple, And ruin’d in my ruin,
Some scudded on the gale without a sound, 445 Thirsty, canker’d, goblin-ridden?”—
Some vanish’d in the distance. She clung about her sister, 485
Kiss’d and kiss’d and kiss’d her:
In a smart, ache, tingle, Tears once again
Lizzie went her way; Refresh’d her shrunken eyes,

1 obstreperously with unruly or aggressive noisiness

2 hoary grey

This edition ©2013 Luke R. J. Maynard

 English 1027F Huron University College
Fall Term 2013

Dropping like rain But when the first birds chirp’d about their
After long sultry drouth; 490 eaves, 530
Shaking with aguish fear, and pain, And early reapers plodded to the place
She kiss’d and kiss’d her with a hungry mouth. Of golden sheaves,
And dew-wet grass
Her lips began to scorch, Bow’d in the morning winds so brisk to pass,
That juice was wormwood to her tongue, And new buds with new day 535
She loath’d the feast: 495 Open’d of cup-like lilies on the stream,
Writhing as one possess’d she leap’d and sung, Laura awoke as from a dream,
Rent all her robe, and wrung Laugh’d in the innocent old way,
Her hands in lamentable haste, Hugg’d Lizzie but not twice or thrice;
And beat her breast. Her gleaming locks show’d not one
Her locks stream’d like the torch 500 thread of grey, 540
Borne by a racer at full speed, Her breath was sweet as May
Or like the mane of horses in their flight, And light danced in her eyes.
Or like an eagle when she stems the light
Straight toward the sun, Days, weeks, months, years
Or like a caged thing freed, 505 Afterwards, when both were wives
Or like a flying flag when armies run. With children of their own; 545
Their mother-hearts beset with fears,
Swift fire spread through her veins, knock’d at Their lives bound up in tender lives;
her heart, Laura would call the little ones
Met the fire smouldering there And tell them of her early prime,
And overbore its lesser flame; Those pleasant days long gone 550
She gorged on bitterness without a name: 510 Of not-returning time:
Ah! fool, to choose such part Would talk about the haunted glen,
Of soul-consuming care! The wicked, quaint fruit-merchant men,
Sense fail’d in the mortal strife: Their fruits like honey to the throat
Like the watch-tower of a town But poison in the blood; 555
Which an earthquake shatters down, 515 (Men sell not such in any town):
Like a lightning-stricken mast, Would tell them how her sister stood
Like a wind-uprooted tree In deadly peril to do her good,
Spun about, And win the fiery antidote:
Like a foam-topp’d waterspout Then joining hands to little hands 560
Cast down headlong in the sea, 520 Would bid them cling together,
She fell at last; “For there is no friend like a sister
Pleasure past and anguish past, In calm or stormy weather;
Is it death or is it life? To cheer one on the tedious way,
To fetch one if one goes astray, 565
Life out of death. To lift one if one totters down,
That night long Lizzie watch’d by her, 525 To strengthen whilst one stands.”
Counted her pulse’s flagging stir, _____________________________________________________
Felt for her breath, To cite this handout:
Held water to her lips, and cool’d her face Rossetti, Christina. “Goblin Market.” Handout. English
1027F. London, ON: Huron University College,
With tears and fanning leaves:
2013.

This edition ©2013 Luke R. J. Maynard