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Tap, tap, tap!
Like a carpenter’s hammer
On a lost windjammer,
In the mangrove scrub;
And rap, rap, rap,
Like beats of a rammer,
Or a black man’s club;
And whence came the tapping,
The knock, knock and rapping,
The sound of hands clapping?
O, that was the rub.
Tap, Tap, Tap!
T’was the Carpenter Bird
That the northland heard,
In the lone, dark night.
Then clap, clap, clap,
And a newcomer stirr’d
By a campfire bright.
As though to abate it;
But who could locate it?
Who’d love it or hate it
In dark or light?
Tap, Tap, Tap!
The note was uncanny,
‘Twas weirder than any
Of the night’s array;
A slap, slap, slap.
Of one or of many,
In ghostly play;
And the mystified camper
Soon packed his hamper.
His blanket and damper,
And hied away.
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