Down along the rocky shore Some make their home, They live on crispy pancakes Of yellow tide-foam; Some in the reeds Of the black mountain lake, With frogs for their watch-dogs, All night awake. High on the hill-top The old King sits; He is now so old and gray On his stately journeys From Slieveleague to Rosses; Or going up with music On cold starry nights To sup with the Queen Of the gay Northern Lights. They stole little Bridget Her friends were all gone. They took her lightly back, Between the night and morrow, They thought that she was fast asleep, They have kept her ever since By the craggy hill-side, The Fairy Thrall If any man so daring As dig them up in spite, He shall find their sharpest thorns Up the airy mountain, Trooping all together; Green jacket, red cap, And white owl's feather! 243 William Allingham [1824-1889] THE FAIRY THRALL ON gossamer nights when the moon is low, You may see the fairies riding. Kling! Klang! Kling! Their stirrups and their bridles ring, And their horns are loud and their bugles blow, They sweep through the night like a whistling wind, They pass and have left no traces; But one of them lingers far behind The flight of the fairy faces. She makes no moan, She sorrows in the dark alone, She wails for the love of human kind, Like a whistling wind. "Ah! why did I roam where the elfins ride, Kling! Klang! Kling! Their stirrups and their bridles ring, But my heart is cold in the cold night-tide, Where the elfins ride." Mary C. G. Byron [1861 FAREWELL TO THE FAIRIES FAREWELL, rewards and fairies! Good housewives now may say, For now foul sluts in dairies Do fare as well as they. And though they sweep their hearths no less Than maids were wont to do, Yet who of late, for cleanliness, Finds sixpence in her shoe? Lament, lament, old abbeys, The fairies' lost command! For love of your demains. At morning and at evening both These pretty ladies had; When Tom came home from labor, Or Ciss to milking rose, Then merrily merrily went their tabor Witness those rings and roundelays A tell-tale in their company 245 Richard Corbet [1582-1635] THE FAIRY FOLK COME cuddle close in daddy's coat Beside the fire so bright, And hear about the fairy folk That wander in the night. For when the stars are shining clear And all the world is still, They float across the silver moon From hill to cloudy hill. Their caps of red, their cloaks of green, Are hung with silver bells, And when they're shaken with the wind Their merry ringing swells. And riding on the crimson moth, With black spots on her wings, They guide them down the purple sky With golden bridle rings. They love to visit girls and boys On tip-toe crowding round their heads, And then the little spotted moths Spread out their crimson wings, Perhaps the little fairy folk Will visit you to-night. Robert Bird (1867 THE FAIRY BOOK WHEN Mother takes the Fairy Book Which seems to be so near. For soon we reach the pleasant place Where birdies sing the hour of day, Where Bobby is a velvet Prince, |