Ai me! why stood I on the bent When Summer wept o'er dying June! I saw the Fairy Folk ride faint Aneath the moon.
The haw-trees hedged the russet lea Where cuckoo-buds waxed rich with gold; The wealthy corn rose yellowly Endlong the wold.
Betwixt the haw-trees and the mead “The Fairy Rade” came glimmering on; A creamy cavalcade did speed O'er the green lawn.
The night was ringing with their reins; Loud laughed they till the cricket hushed; The whistles on their coursers’ manes Shrill music gushed.
The whistles tagged their horses’ manes All crystal clear; on these a wind Forever played, and waked the plains Before, behind.
These flute-notes and the Fairy song Took the dim holts with many a qualm, And eke their silver bridles rung A far-off psalm.
All rid upon pale ouphen steeds With flying tails, uncouthly seen; Each wore a scarf athwart his weeds Of freshest green.
And aye a beam of silver light Fairer than moonshine danced aboon, And shook their locks — a glimmering white Not of the moon.
Small were they that the hare-bell's blue Had helmeted each tiny head; Save one damsel, who, tall as two, The Faeries led.
Long tresses floated from a tire Of diamond sparks, which cast a light, And o'er her white sark shook, in fire Rippling the night.
I would have thrown me‘ neath her feet, And told her all my dole and pain, There while her rein was jingling sweet O'er all the plain.
Alas! a black and thwarting cock Crew from the thatch with long-necked cry — The Elfin queen and her wee flock In the night did die.
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