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The Fairies
by William Allingham
Up the airy mountain,
Down the rushy glen,
We daren't go a-hunting,
For fear of little men.
Wee folk, good folk,
Trooping all together;
Green jacket, red cap,
And white owl's feather!
Down along the rocky shore
Some make their home.
They live on crispy pancakes
Of yellow tide-foam;
Some in the reeds
Of the black mountain lake,
With frogs for their wachdogs,
All night awake.
NEXT POEM
The Night Has A Thousand Eyes By Francis William Bourdillon
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