 | The white dove, and Other Poems for Children |  |
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A Plea for the Fairies.
Do you believe in Fairy tales?
I would if I were you:
Doubt wiser things—but never deem
That wondrous lore untrue.
I would if I were you:
Doubt wiser things—but never deem
That wondrous lore untrue.
I would not part with any faith
To happy childhood known;
Let Jack's bean be as wonderful
As when it first was sown.
To happy childhood known;
Let Jack's bean be as wonderful
As when it first was sown.
We cannot part with Puss in Boots,
Nor yet Red-riding Hood!
And Cinderella brings to mind
A godmother as good
Nor yet Red-riding Hood!
And Cinderella brings to mind
A godmother as good
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As she, who in a mouse's trap
Could six tall footmen find,
And make a silk-lined, golden coach,
Of yellow pumpkin rind.
Could six tall footmen find,
And make a silk-lined, golden coach,
Of yellow pumpkin rind.
Whatever else may pass away,
Let us retain at least
The story, with its thought divine,
Of Beauty and the Beast.
Let us retain at least
The story, with its thought divine,
Of Beauty and the Beast.
The wisdom of the grown-up world
Is crushing fancy out!
The wild belief it cannot tame,
It smothers with its doubt.
Is crushing fancy out!
The wild belief it cannot tame,
It smothers with its doubt.
It puts to use old happy ways,
And calls its lessons games!
Shuts up the dear old story books,
But keeps their charmed names.
And calls its lessons games!
Shuts up the dear old story books,
But keeps their charmed names.
Let childhood keep all sweet belief,
And never be too wise
To see the strange and wonderful,
With clear, undoubting eyes
And never be too wise
To see the strange and wonderful,
With clear, undoubting eyes
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Retain some faith in other things,
Than can be put to use;
Learn, when you must, arithmetic,
But still love mother Goose.
Than can be put to use;
Learn, when you must, arithmetic,
But still love mother Goose.
To all romances wild and old
A ready credence yield;
Nor doubt the Enchanted Beauty's eyes
By magic sleep are sealed.
A ready credence yield;
Nor doubt the Enchanted Beauty's eyes
By magic sleep are sealed.
The wonderful Arabian tales!
Oh! never be too old
To revel in their marvels rich
Of Genii, gems, and gold.
Oh! never be too old
To revel in their marvels rich
Of Genii, gems, and gold.
Early enough comes cold mistrust!
But this for truth receive,
Nothing is easier than to doubt,
More blest than to believe?
But this for truth receive,
Nothing is easier than to doubt,
More blest than to believe?
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