YOUTH

I once might hear the fairies sing

Upon the feathery grass a-swing,

Or in the orchard's blossoming:

Their melody so fine and clear,

One had to bend his ear to hear,

Or else the music well might pass

For zephyrs whispering in the grass.

I once might see the fairies dance

A-circle in their meadow-haunts,

Soft-tapered by the new-moon's glance:

Their airy feet in crystal shoon

Made twinklings neath the silver moon.

Such witchery, but that‘ t was seen,

Might well have been the dew-drops’ sheen.

I've wandered far yond summer seas,

Where Music dwells mid harmonies

That well the Seraphim might please;

But never more I catch, ah me!

The fairies’ silvery melody —

Their crystal twinkling on the moonlit lea.