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.
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.
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