The Fairy Folk

UPP 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, Andwhite 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 watch-dogs, All night awake. High on the hill-top The old King sits ; He is now so old and gray He's nigh lost his wits. THE FAIRY FOLK With a bridge of white mist Columbkill he crosses, Onhis stately journeys From Slieveleague to Rosses Or going up with music On cold starry nights To sup with the Queen Of the gay Northern Lights They stole little Bridget For seven years long; When she came down again Her friends were all gone. They took her lightly back Between the night and morrow They thought that she was fast asleep But she was dead with sorrow They have kept her ever since Deep within the lakes On abed of flag leaves Watching till she wakes. By the craggy hill-side, Through the mosses bare They have planted thorn trees For pleasure here and there Isanymanso daring As dig one up in spite He shall find the thornies set Inhis bed at night. Upthe airy mountain, Down the rushyglen, THE CHILDREN'S HOUR 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.