THE ROAD TO ELFLAND THE HORNS OF ELFLAND HE splendor falls on castle walls story: The long light shakes across the lakes Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, O hark, O hear! how thin and clear, The horns of Elfland faintly blowing! Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying: Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying! O love, they die in yon rich sky, They faint on hill or field or river: And grow for ever and for ever. Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, And answer, echoes, answer, dying, dying, dying! Alfred, Lord Tennyson FROM THE HILLS OF DREAM ACROSS the silent stream Where the slumber-shadows go, Who hath seen that fragrant land, Who hath seen that unscanned west? Only the listless hand And the unpulsing breast. But when the west wind blows And a strange song I have heard By a shadowy stream, And the singing of a snow-white bird On the Hills of Dream. Fiona Macleod. UP THE FAIRIES P the airy mountain, We daren't go a-hunting Trooping all together; And white owl's feather! Down along the rocky shore Of the black mountain lake, High on the hill-top He is now so old and gray From Slieveleague to Rosses; On cold starry nights To sup with the Queen Of the gay Northern Lights. They stole little Bridget By the craggy hill-side, If any man so daring As dig them up in spite, He shall find their sharpest thorns Up the airy mountain, We daren't go a-hunting Green jacket, red cap, And white owl's feather! William Allingham FAERIES' SONG FROM The Land Of Heart's Desire HE wind blows out of the gates of the day, THE windows over the lonely of heart, And the lonely of heart is withered away, Of a land where even the old are fair, And even the wise are merry of tongue; But I heard a reed of Coolaney say, 66 "When the wind has laughed and murmured and sung, The lonely of heart is withered away." William Butler Yeats WHERE THE BEE SUCKS WHERE the bee sucks, there suck I: There I couch when owls do cry. On the bat's back I do fly After summer merrily. Merrily, merrily, shall I live now Under the blossom that hangs on the bough. Shakespeare OVER HILL, OVER DALE OVER hill, over dale, Thorough bush, thorough brier, Over park, over pale, Thorough flood, thorough fire, Swifter than the moon's sphere; You YOU SPOTTED SNAKES OU spotted snakes, with double tongue, seen; Come not near our fairy queen. Philomel, with melody. Sing in our sweet lullaby; Lulla, lulla, lullaby; lulla, lulla, lullaby; Never harm, Nor spell nor charm, Come our lovely lady nigh; So good-night, with lullaby. |