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Todlin Island

Edith M. Thomas

First published 1895
Type Poem

The island where the elves live. And if you go there and speak a word, you would be captive of the King of the Elves for 7 years and a day. (Copyright expired) <blockquote> On this silver inlet's breast,<br> Lies an isle in glamour drest.<br> All its trees are small but old,<br> Threescore winters each has told,<br> And the patriarch of the clan<br> Is no taller than a man !<br> Yet these little weazened trees<br> That are dropping on their knees<br> Down before the bluff north breeze<br> Are gigantic yew and oak<br> To the island's pigmy folk.<br><br> They are full of craft and guile,<br> Who inhabit Todlin Isle.<br> Oftentimes, with quaint farewells, <br> They launch out in scallop-shells,<br> On some mighty voyage bound<br> To the mainland meadow-ground.<br> If you're like to cross their track,<br> Straight about they veer and tack,<br> Sheltering in those tangled coves<br> Where they hide their treasure-troves ;<br> If you land, they quickly flit<br> Into secret cave and pit ;<br> So that never yet, I ween,<br> Any of their ilk was seen.<br> But their bond-slaves you may pass,<br> Weaving through the warm, dry grass<br> (Limber "hopper," coal-black grig,<br> Lady-bug, and emmet trig) ;<br> And their beds you come across,<br> Strewn with tressed green-gray moss ; --<br> Pillows made of silk-weed floss --<br> Coverlids of rose-leaf lawn --<br> Sweet-fern curtains, partly drawn.<br> You may find their banquet-rooms<br> Hung with white azalea blooms,<br> And the dainties left in haste,<br> If you wish, yourself may taste ; --<br> Goblets filled with dewberry wine,<br> Purple beach-plums, sleek and fine,<br> Honey that was had in fee<br> From the solitary bee,<br> Smilax salads cool and crisp ; --<br> You may taste -- but no word lisp,<br> Else for seven years and a day<br> You on Todlin Isle must stay.<br> For of fern-seed you will eat, --<br> Be unseen, from head to feet, --<br> Be unheard, howe'er you moan,<br> Till your captive years are flown,<br> Drag about a gossamer chain,<br> Serve the King of Elves, in pain.<br><br> Ah, my child, be wise and dumb,<br> When to Todlin Isle you come !<br></blockquote>

Date Publication Publisher Type Page
1895 Cover In Sunshine Land Houghton Mifflin Collection 117