 | Poems |  |
A FAIRY FLIGHT.
A fairy lived in a lily bell,
Ring, swing, columbine!
In frosts she stole a wood-snail's shell
Till soft the sun should shine,
And Spring-time come again, my dear:
And Spring-time come again;
With rattling showers and frighted flowers
And bristling blades of grain.
Ring, swing, columbine!
In frosts she stole a wood-snail's shell
Till soft the sun should shine,
And Spring-time come again, my dear:
And Spring-time come again;
With rattling showers and frighted flowers
And bristling blades of grain.
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And oh! the lily bell was sweet,
Ring, sing, columbine!
But the snail shell pinched her little feet,
And the sun was slow to shine.
It's long till Spring-time comes, my dear,
Till Spring-time comes again:
The year delays, the winter stays,
And whitens hill and plain.
Ring, sing, columbine!
But the snail shell pinched her little feet,
And the sun was slow to shine.
It's long till Spring-time comes, my dear,
Till Spring-time comes again:
The year delays, the winter stays,
And whitens hill and plain.
The fairy caught a butterfly,
Swing, cling, columbine!
The last that dared to float and fly,
When pale the sun did shine:
For Spring is slow to come, my dear,
Is slow to come again.
And far away doth Summer stay
Beyond the roaring main.
Swing, cling, columbine!
The last that dared to float and fly,
When pale the sun did shine:
For Spring is slow to come, my dear,
Is slow to come again.
And far away doth Summer stay
Beyond the roaring main.
She mounted on her painted steed,
Ring, cling, columbine!
And well he served that fairy's need,
And warm the sun did shine.
The Spring she followed fast, my dear,
She followed it amain;
Where blossoms throng the whole year long,
She found the Spring again!
Ring, cling, columbine!
And well he served that fairy's need,
And warm the sun did shine.
The Spring she followed fast, my dear,
She followed it amain;
Where blossoms throng the whole year long,
She found the Spring again!
Oh, fairy sweet! come back once more,
Ring, swing, columbine.
When grass is green on hill and shore
And summer sunbeams shine.
What if the Spring is late, my dear,
And comes with dropping rain?
When roses blow and rivers flow,
Come back to us again!
Ring, swing, columbine.
When grass is green on hill and shore
And summer sunbeams shine.
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And comes with dropping rain?
When roses blow and rivers flow,
Come back to us again!
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