The Fairies
by William Allingham
Up the airy mountain
Down the rushy glen,
We dare n't go a-hunting,
For fear of little men;
Wee folk, good folk,
Trooping all together;
Green jacket, red cap,
And white owl's feather.
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
He's nigh lost his wits.
With a bridge of white mist
Columbkill he crosses,
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
For seven years long;
When she came down again
Her friends were all gone.
They took her lightly back
Between the night and morrow;
They thought she was fast asleep,
But she was dead with sorrow.
They have kept her ever since
Deep within the lake,
On a bed of flag leaves,
Watching till she wake.
By the craggy hill-side,
Through the mosses bare,
They have planted thorn trees
For pleasure here and there.
Is any man so daring
As dig them up in spite?
He shall find the thornies set
In his bed at night.
Up the airy mountain
Down the rushy glen,
We dare n't go a-hunting,
For fear of little men;
Wee folk, good folk,
Trooping all together;
Green jacket, red cap,
And white owl's feather.
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The Fairy Garden
by Diana Greenwood
When you step amongst the blooms,
Beware, they're really fairy rooms
And 'tho they only reach your knees
To faires buds are tall as trees.
Cleverly hidden near the ground
Tiny colonies can be found
Behold the pastel Four o'clocks
Shade resting fairies perched on rocks.
Queen Anne's Lace, shimming white
Blossoms plucked in morning light
Make silver threaded wedding dresses
And veils to cover lovely tresses.
Fairy babies so sweet and small
Quite simply hard to see at all
Asleep on Bachelor Button beds
Babies Breath pillows at their heads.
I hope you hesitate to take
the finest daises strong and straight
Alas, they're truly parasols
For days of sun or mild rainfall.
Shades of azure, everlasting
bushy, spreading, shadow casting,
Silent tents of Forget Me Not
Where fairy soldiers guard their flock.
Leaves are stripped and gently dried
to make canoes for midnight rides
Moonlight kisses transparent wings
And shines upon the crowns of kings.
Fairy dust has a tinkling sound
Try to catch it fluttering down
Before it quietly disappears
or blends with rainbow dew drop tears.
So in the flowers when you play
Remember what you've learned today
And if you hear a tiny sound
Quickly glance down to the ground
You may just get a fleeting glimpse
of golden wings or faint footprints
For gardens wether large or small
Are not quite what they seem at all.
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The Footstep Fairies
by Muriel E. Windram
The footstep fairies follow you
Wherever you may walk,
And when you tread the grasses down,
They push back every stalk.
They never let you see them work,
Though you may watch for hours,
But hide themselves behind your feet,
And in among the flowers.
Then, when you've gone along your way,
They tug with might and main,
Till all the little blades of grass
Are standing straight again.
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I'd Love To Be A Fairy's Child
by Robert Graves
Children born of fairy stock
Never need for shirt or frock,
Never want for food or fire,
Always get their hearts desire:
Jingle pockets full of gold,
Marry when they're seven years old.
Every fairy child may keep
Two ponies and ten sheep;
All have houses, each his own,
Built of brick or granite stone;
They live on cherries, they run wild--
I'd love to be a Fairy's child.
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Fae Poems 2
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