Classic Poem

The field is red with poppy flowers,
Where mushroom meadows stand;
It's only seven fairy hours
From there to Fairyland.

Now when the star-shells riot up
In flares of red and green,
Each fairy leaves her buttercup
And goes to see her queen.

Where little, ghostly moonbeams stray
Through mushroom alleys white,
The fairies carry on their way
A glow-worm lamp for light.

For them the journey's always short;
They're happy as you please,
A-riding to the Fairy Court
On backs of bumble-bees.

The cricket and the grasshopper
Are thridding in the grass,
And making paths of gossamer
For fairy feet to pass.

Whene'er I see a glow-worm light
In Boyau seventeen,
I know the fairies go that night
To see the Fairy Queen.