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Make their dance-rings about it,
Sing their songs in its praise.
Pass, - the daisy is not!
Still by that little spot.
Sang while pausing above,
Here is a footprint of Love!”
THE LITTLE FAY.
ROBERT BUCHANAN. EXTRACT.
WHEN the summer day
And the blue sky clear,
And I feel no fear.
I rise from my bed of an acorn cup
And shake the dew from my hair and eyes, Then I stoop to a dewdrop and drink it up, And it seems to strengthen my wings to rise.
Then I fly, I fly!
I rise up high,
High as the greenwood tree. The humming bee and the butterfly And the moth with its broad brown wings go by While down on the leaf of an oak I lie,
Covered up where none can see !
Sighing and saddening me.
Till the sunbeams go,
Floats by me slow,
And the shadows grow
Before I know !
I see it flow
A LITTLE fairy comes at night,
Her eyes are blue, her hair is brown,
And from the moon she flutters down.
She has a little silver wand,
And when a good child goes to bed, She waves her wand from right to left
And makes a circle round its head.
And then it dreams of pleasant things,
Of fountains filled with fairy fish, And trees that bear delicious fruit
And bow their branches at a wish.
Of arbors filled with dainty scents
From lovely flowers that never fade; Bright flies that glitter in the sun,
And glow-worms shining in the shade ; And singing-birds with gifted tongues
For singing songs and telling tales ; And pretty dwarfs to show the way
Through fairy hills and fairy dales.
But when a bad child goes to bed,
From left to right she weaves her rings, And then it dreams all through the night
Of only ugly, horrid things ! Then lions come with glaring eyes,
And tigers growl — a dreadful noise; And ogres draw their cruel knives
To shed the blood of girls and boys.
Then stormy waves rush on to drown,
And raging flames come scorching round; Fierce dragons hover in the air,
And serpents crawl along the ground.
Then wicked children wake and weep
And wish the long, black gloom away; But good ones love the dark, and find
The night as pleasant as the day.
“ And where have you been, my Mary,
And where have you been from me?” “I've been to the top of the Caldon-Low,
The midsummer night to see!” “ And what did you see, my Mary,
All up on the Caldon-Low?” “I saw the blithe sunshine come down,
And I saw the merry winds blow.”
“ And what did you hear, my Mary,
All up on the Caldon Hill?” “I heard the drops of water made,
And I heard the corn-ears fill.”
“ Oh tell me all, my Mary –
All, all that ever you know;
Last night on the Caldon-Low."
“ Then take me on your knee, mother,
And listen, mother of mine :
And the harpers they were nine;
“And merry was the glee of the harp-strings,
And their dancing feet so small; But oh! the sound of their talking
Was merrier far than all !”
“ And what were the words, my Mary,
That you did hear them say ?” "I'll tell you all, my mother,
But let me have my way.
“And some they played with the water
And rolled it down the hill ; · And this,' they said, shall speedily turn
The poor old miller's mill;
66. For there has been no water
Ever since the first of May;
By the dawning of the day!
«« Oh, the miller, how he will laugh,
When he sees the mill-dam rise!
Till the tears fill both his eyes !'
“ And some they seized the little winds,
That sounded over the hill,