 | The Poet and Nature and The Morning Road |  |
THE FAERY RING.
The moon, white as a cotton-flower,
Hung broad above the hill,
When from the old oak's toppling tower
The owl cried and was still.
Hung broad above the hill,
When from the old oak's toppling tower
The owl cried and was still.
There came a stealthy sound; and then
The cricket hushed its tune,
And here and there and back again
The bat dodged by the moon.
The cricket hushed its tune,
And here and there and back again
The bat dodged by the moon.
The woodland held its breath to see
What was it would befall;
And underneath each bush and tree
The flow'rs stood listening all.
What was it would befall;
And underneath each bush and tree
The flow'rs stood listening all.
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Again there came that stealthy sound,
As secret as the dew;
And then I saw upon the ground
The toadstools thrusting through.
As secret as the dew;
And then I saw upon the ground
The toadstools thrusting through.
And at each toadstool's root there stood
An elfin-thing that pushed,
And leaned, and harkened in the wood
To hear if all was hushed.
An elfin-thing that pushed,
And leaned, and harkened in the wood
To hear if all was hushed.
Then round the toadstools, white as milk,
They danced, with flying locks,
Their trousers made of moonflower-silk,
Their gowns of four-o'-clocks.
They danced, with flying locks,
Their trousers made of moonflower-silk,
Their gowns of four-o'-clocks.
A cricket piped, a frog drummed near—
In pixy minstrelsy.
And round and round in moonlight clear,
They led their revelry.
In pixy minstrelsy.
And round and round in moonlight clear,
They led their revelry.
Until far off I heard a cock
Crow—and the elves were gone,
Leaving these toadstools by the rock
For us to see at dawn.
Crow—and the elves were gone,
Leaving these toadstools by the rock
For us to see at dawn.
| The Poet and Nature and The Morning Road | |