 | Sonnets of the Wingless Hours |  |
92
OBERON'S LAST COUNCIL.
I.
He called a last assembly of the Elves.
Hundreds of Fairies in the forest met
Round one huge oak-tree—Sprites of dry and wet,
Pixies and Imps, and every gnome that delves:
Hundreds of Fairies in the forest met
Round one huge oak-tree—Sprites of dry and wet,
Pixies and Imps, and every gnome that delves:
And Oberon said: ‘We lurk by tens and twelves,
Starved in the woods. Man's faith—our food as yet—
Feeds us no more; the Fairies' sun has set:
We are but shadows of our former selves.
Starved in the woods. Man's faith—our food as yet—
Feeds us no more; the Fairies' sun has set:
We are but shadows of our former selves.
'Tis time to leave the woods and we must part.
When faith quite ends—so say the High Decrees—
Then death will strike us with his icy dart.
When faith quite ends—so say the High Decrees—
Then death will strike us with his icy dart.
Long have we nestled in the hearts of trees;
Now we must nestle in the Poet's heart—
The only place where fairies never freeze.’
Now we must nestle in the Poet's heart—
The only place where fairies never freeze.’
| Sonnets of the Wingless Hours | |