And _See-Saw_; _Margery Daw_; there came the chorussing shout, As the swing-boats answered the roaring tune of the rollicking roundabout; Dickory, dickory, dickory, dock, d’you hear my swivels chime? Swing; swing; you’re as good as a king if you keep eternal time. Then we saw that the tunes of the world were one; And the metre that guided the rhythmic sun Was at one, like the ebb and the flow of the sea, With the tunes that we learned at our mother’s knee; The beat of the horse-hoofs that carried us down To see the fine Lady of Banbury Town; And so, by the rhymes that we knew, we could tell Without knowing the others--that all was well. And then, our brains began to spin; For it seemed as if that mighty din Were no less than the cries of the poets and sages Of all the nations in all the ages; And, if they could only beat out the whole Of their music together, the guerdon and goal Of the world would be reached with one mighty shout, And the dark dread secret of Time be out; And nearer, nearer they seemed to climb, And madder and merrier rose the song, And the swings and the see-saws marked the time; For this was the maddest and merriest throng That ever was met on a holy-day To dance the dust of the world away; And madder and merrier, round and round The whirligigs whirled to the whirling sound, Till it seemed that the mad song burst its bars And mixed with the song of the whirling stars, The song that the rhythmic Time-Tides tell To seraphs in Heaven and devils in Hell; Ay; Heaven and Hell in accordant chime With the universal rhythm and rhyme Were nearing the secret of Space and Time; The song of that ultimate mystery Which only the mad blind men who see, Led by the laugh of a little child, Can utter; Ay, wilder and yet more wild It maddened, till now--full song--it was out! It roared from the starry roundabout-- _A child was born in Bethlehem, in Bethlehem, in Bethlehem,_ _A child was born in Bethlehem; ah, hear my fairy fable;_ _For I have seen the King of Kings, no longer thronged with angel wings,_ _But croodling like a little babe, and cradled in a stable._ _The wise men came to greet him with their gifts of myrrh and frankincense,--_ _Gold and myrrh and frankincense they brought to make him mirth;_ _And would you know the way to win to little brother Peterkin,_ _My childhood’s heart shall guide you through the glories of the earth._ _A child was born in Bethlehem, in Bethlehem, in Bethlehem;_ _The wise men came to welcome him: a star stood o’er the gable;_ _And there they saw the Kings of Kings, no longer thronged with angel wings,_ _But croodling like a little babe, and cradled in a stable._