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Dirge for Aoine and other poems

by Nora Chesson [i.e. Nora Hopper]

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THE SHORT CUT TO ROSSES
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


xxiii

THE SHORT CUT TO ROSSES

By the short cut to Rosses a fairy girl I met;
I was taken in her beauty as a fish is in a net.
The fern uncurled to look at her, so very fair was she,
With her hair as bright as seaweed new-drawn from out the sea.
By the short cut to Rosses ('twas on the first of May)
I heard the fairies piping, and they piped my heart away;
They piped till I was mad with joy, but when I was alone
I found my heart was piped away and in my breast a stone.
By the short cut to Rosses 't is I'll go never more,
Lest I be robbed of soul by her that stole my heart before,
Lest she take my soul and crush it like a dead leaf in her hand,
For the short cut to Rosses is the way to Fairyland.