The Potter’s Luck, III

Well, as betwixt his palms the piece he rolled, A little zigzag stone that shined like gold Dropt out, and rested on his knee. Just then A lovely and sweet-hearted gentleman Broke through the bushes,—leapt the wall that stood About the outskirts of the royal wood, And saw the potter sitting thus alone,— Upon his knee the shining zigzag stone: And in his white hand took it, paying down On the poor potter’s knee a silver crown; Then leapt the wall and through the bushes sped. That night the potter came, with lightsome tread, Home to his house, and when he showed the crown, You would have thought the roof was coming down! Such merry children it were good to see,— One at his shoulder, one on either knee; And as a hand, brown as a leaf that’s dead, He laid upon each little golden head, And told, with heart a-tremble in his tone, About the shining bit of zigzag stone, And all about the lovely gentleman, Who, breaking through the bushes of the glen, Leapt the great wall, and on his knee laid down— The Lord knew why, he said—the silver crown, His brown hands shook, his eyes with tears grew dim, That such grand luck should fall by chance to him.