There is no fairy can hide from me;
I keep on dreaming till I find him;
There you are, Primrose!

I see you, Black Wing!

HILDA CONKLING

FAIRY LAND

VER hill, over dale,

Through bush, through brier,

Over park, over pale,

Through flood, through fire,
I do wander everywhere,
Swifter than the moon's sphere;
And I serve the fairy queen,
To dew her orbs upon the green;
The cowslips tall her pensioners be;
In their gold coats spots you see;
Those be rubies, fairy favours,
In those freckles live their savours;
I must go seek some dewdrops here,
And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear.

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

WILL EVER?

ILL he ever be weary of wandering,

W The flaming sun?

Ever weary of waning in lovelight,

The white, still moon?

Will ever a shepherd come
With a crook of simple gold,
And lead all the little stars
Like, lambs to the fold?

Will ever the Wanderer sail

From over the sea,

Up the river of water,

To the stones to me?

Will he take us all into his ship,

Dreaming, and waft us far,

To where in the clouds of the West

The Islands are?

WALTER DE LA MARE

FR

THE OTHERS

ROM our hidden places
By a secret path,

We troop in the moonlight

To the edge of the green wrath.

There the night through
We take our pleasure,
Dancing to such a measure
As earth never knew.

To song and dance

And lilt without a name
So sweetly breathed

'Twould put a bird to shame.

And many a young maiden
Is there of mortal birth
Her young eyes laden
With dreams of earth.

And many a youth entranced

Moves slowly in the wildered round,

His brave lost feet enchanted
In the rhythm of elfin sound.

Music so forest wild

And piercing sweet would bring
Silence on blackbirds singing
Their best in the ear of Spring.

And now they pause in their dancing
And look with troubled eyes,

Earth's straying children

With sudden memory wise.

They pause, and their eyes in the moonlight

With faery wisdom cold,

Grow dim, and a thought goes fluttering In hearts no longer old.

And then the dream forsakes them,
And singing they turn anew

As the whispering music takes them
To the dance of the elfin crew.

Oh, many a thrush and blackbird
Would fall to the dewy ground
And pine away in silence
For envy of such a sound.